How I wish my thorns in the flesh are mere nightmares-
Would simply disappear when morning comes near.
No one would know they are there,
No one to make me remember.
At times they see my thorns.
At times they see my bloom.
It would be nice to be all bloom,
No thorns to prick others,
No thorns to prick me either.
For I am human and not a rose.
Expected to be beautiful and all.
But I do have thorns;
That may hurt you less but hurts me more.
I may hate it or deny it;
But it’s part of my nature.