Love is like a rose –
Or so they say.
Love is like a rose
With its soft velvet petals
Whispering promises of comfort
Within its silky hold.
But that is all they are –
Promises.
 

Love is like a rose
With its sweet aroma
Enticing you,
Tempting you,
Drawing you,
Towards its beauty
Like a bear towards honey.
And like a bee’s sting,
The rose’s thorns prick you
And stun you.
You pull back as fast as you can,
But it’s too late.
The damage is done,
And a dull ache remains.
 

Love is like a rose
With its blood red petals
Full of Love.
Red like Anger,
Red like Pain.
 

If this is truly Love,
Then Love must be a weed,
Harming others for selfish gain.
 

This cannot be Love.
For Love is Patient and Kind.
Love does not tempt you
towards danger,
But holds you in its arms
Shielding you from any harm.
 

Love is gentle in every way,
Whether with words
Or fleeting touches.
Love does not make promises.
Love makes declarations.

Here I stand before the world and ask,
“Why should Love
Be like a rose
When a rose is everything
Love is not.”