Rosebud Weed

The fragile little rose
Looks inside her dew-drop mirror,
Searching for the one thing
That is her greatest fear.
She caresses every petal,
Examines every leaf,
Looks deep inside herself
To find her personal motif.
Looking up into the stars
As they move across the blackened skies;
Eons weep, and their crystal tears
Fall directly in her eyes.
A precious little rosebud,
Everyone's heart she warms.
All they see is a symbol of love,
And all she sees is thorns.
Searching for light in the darkest depths
Of her own delicate little mind;
She is shocked and appaled
For what she comes to find:
The greatest oak tree in the world
Is nothing but a seed;
And the most beautiful rose of them all,
Is nothing but a weed.

Copyright 2001 Caitlin Carlson