Wild Rose

She is pretty but thorny,
Her words are beautiful but can turn into blades in a minute,
Her smile can ease any pain as easy as blowing the dust away,
Yet her tongue can be as sharp as a knife that could make you bleed as hell,
Her kiss can fly your mind away from anywhere and bring you up to the sky,
Yet her mouth can be brilliantly twist your mind and tear your pride apart,
And she might be going where the wind blows yet she will never bow down to it,
And she might be too good to be true yet she is too hard to handle at anytime,
And she might be laughing as bright as the sun yet she can be as melancholic as the rain,
And as a beauty as she is, she can never see it for herself,
For she knows it all too well, that a wild rose can never be an orchid.

She can never be her. She can never be like her.

She is a wild rose. And you got to love her as she is.



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