The rose’s thorns.

All that the rose could see were her thorns.  She could never get past them.

All that the rose could see were her thorns. 

As she traced the outline of her face in the mirror,
She wondered why it was so difficult to accept herself.
Eyes too big, cheeks too fat
And the nose, well, let’s not talk about that.

She wondered how others viewed her,
It shouldn’t have mattered, because to her, her body was a stranger.
The day she’d learn to accept herself would be the day she’d grow.
Past all the insecurities and the doubt, spring would slowly melt all the snow.

One thought on “The rose’s thorns.

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