Flaws. All of us share. Some flaunt but I do not.
Thorns. All of us dare. Which I am made of.
Cruel you may also think. I too once said it was.
I cried knowing nothing but hate. Never had enough.
Thorns, only that I hailed, missing the wild aura,
that hung heavy in the air, I never really cared,
‘Cause the curse of the thorn weighed me down,
Not many see the flaws, I’m at peace with them.
Not many see my flaws, they’re lost in the lies,
Scents that they call, they say they are mine,
Which I know is a lie, ’cause I’m just a plant,
with more thorns and that, I hide.
“No”, she said as I looked into her eyes,
I feared my thorns would prick her heart,
“I’ll spill my own and be yours”, she said,
Love. Blood red draped love. And Thorns.
We stood beyond time, love it is called,
Petals and thorns, prick all hearts,
Bleeds desire like she spelt them loud,
Never since then I had to hide my flaws.