Winter Rose

What delicate and tender rose you've become.

So beautiful and fragrant, Lovely and kind.

But thorns do ensnare and hide your color,

Only to be seen. Never to be touched.

 

You captivate others with your unique splendor,

 Enticing as you are, you are feared and hated.

As their chilly air engulfs, life slowly dwindles.

Sweet petals turn bitter, young heart is cold

 

Warmth that you hold is stolen away.

Gentle leaves give, but greed always takes.

Winter close at hand slowly eats away

At the kindness of the rose, compassion, and care.

 

Dead to us all, our rose lies and waits

For spring to return and smile down to she,

But warmth will not be given, never to the kind,

Her warmth she freely gave, never to return.

 

Trapped in the weeds of her previous glory

Still remains a will to live and thrive.

With her name meaning beauty and another of rose

In the cold she will conquer, in the chill she'll survive.