playing in rose gardens

Can’t you let these beds of roses be?

Let them protect their delicacy.

Their thorns are sharp & protective, you see.

Protecting their existence, externally.

Admiration from afar? Uncertainly.

So you saw the beauty in picking me?

you stripped each thorns vulnerability

making room for your simplicity.

My thorns were far too sharp & too thick.

An innocent poke was perceived as a prick.

I was unripe & unbloomed for your handpick.

So you ran away after a small nick?

But I left my mark on you & now you’re lovesick.

You knew our timing was based on distance

Why didn't you leave me in my natural existence?

You shouldn’t have picked my flower that instant

if you weren’t ready to embrace the commitment.

The dangers of playing in rose gardens are existent.

Unless the admiration is raw & persistent.

Nourish my growth & make sure you’re consistent.

The dangers of playing in my gardens are existent.

So don’t pluck roses that aren’t yours to pick.

You’ll either get pricked or end up lovesick.

Maybe one day you’ll look back and reminisce.

Til then my love, I’ll be all that you’ll miss.