A rose may be pretty, but you must remember this:
With every rose out there, there are thorns that will prick
Don't let outer shells fool you; though it looks full of bliss
A rose may just hurt you, if you were to stick
If you stick around and if you come close
Watch out for it's thorns, the pain they invoke
With a rose you must walk on tips of your toes
Or it is your fingers that their thorns will poke
With this fear it is oh so very tempting
To decide to take the thorns off its stem
But who would you be, sitting right there thinking
That you could rid of any part of them?
Do you want your rose to be genuine?
Do you want it to be truly unique?
Then please do not change it, keep its true self in
I promise none of you will be weak
It may look quite delicate, and so very pretty
But with a rose you must keep this in mind
It has weapons that are so very pointy
And to pick a rose you must not be blind