a rose is a beautiful thing to be seen. it shows forgiveness and love, pure and clean.

at the center, a friendship may stand, surrounded by endless pedels, soft to the hand.

but, as a said times before, the rose is beautiful to be seen. touching may send blood to the floor.

picking a rose, a friendship or two, may be easy for others, but some want no blood to lose.

the pedals are soft and nimble, but thorns on the stem, quills of decievement. some pick these, bleed and send the rose to the cold rocks never again to stand with the beautiful flock.

though this is what some may do from the rose of a friendship. others will grasp thr rose, they know it is a beatiful thing, even with blood beginning to flow.

everyone knows a flower has a stem, true friends will hold it, others look at it as if a wrongful sin.

they ones who hold it always know, though the stem is painful, the flowers beauty always grows.

pain is just one attribute to love with a friend. but the flowers great beauty is always there to mend.