Roses

Humans are as delicate as roses. We slowly open our petals to reveal the fragile soul underneath and close them just as fast. And like roses, We have thorns. The sharp points line our skin, Waiting for someone to try to break our walls down. And when they do, We strike. But just as easily as we defend, We crumble. Humans are just as delicate as roses. We fade to dust when faced with anger, And disappear just as fast as we come