Submitted by: Elayna Cardillo
As beautiful as an angel,
With the thorns of the devil
She gets picked at first glance.
The cries of her pain,
Being torn from her bush and brought away
Is all ignored,
Just to be given away.
All her effort growing from a seed
Is all in her mind of memories,
With her beauty starting to wilt away,
She loses hope and fades away.
As people say she is nothing more
Than a weed that grows from the ground,
She notices how far she came
And was pretty enough to get picked from the ground.
As she takes her final breath
A tear rolls to the ground,
She smiled and knew all roses are beautiful
No matter what people do.