A rose

I once asked a rose to tell me a story that would make me forget. As it's thorns pricked my fingers it whispered to me in a somber voice. "I have seen the wind blow and the snow fall. I have seen you sadden and crawl. Though your eyes bleed with anger, and your bottom lip pouts, forgetting your love is a mistake, no doubt. Envy strikes your spine as they fall asleep those fears you have tend to feast. Your tears never seem to drought and your thoughts are drowning you out, but even with my fallen pedals and the thorns on my stem, I'm still just as majestic with or without them. So when you ask this question, remind yourself I am just a flower among a prosperous field but I still am beautiful And even behind a blistering storm, I will bloom, along with my thorns and you will too."