Every Rose Has A Thorn
I thought you were a God
We were to worship and praise
someone to respect, admire
some to cherish and adore.
I thought you were an angel
who hide her wings
Never asked for special recognition
Never wanting fame.
I found out the hard way
You were only a rose
With thorns that tore.
Looks can be desiving
and yours tore at my heart
The beauty that shined
was only petel deep.
I loved you too much
and held you too close
that your thornes ripped open my hand
and blood rained over the floor.
My love for you still shines
as the rose hangs dry
The thorns were ripped off
but your beauty is kept.
