Thorn A soft and dainty flower, I hold
Arms so tender, yet strong as time
Protecting innocence with a vengeance
Bold and vibrant, professing its purpose
Surely, such a rose has no thorn
Here among the lands of my dreams
Yet as I cradle it close in hand
I can feel my very essence bleed
As morning brings the sun to dance
I find my faith, still lingers on
As petals and stings of a taunting rose
Fade before my eyes....
Then gone....
~THE FLOWING PEN~
3-16-07
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