Only The Thorns Remember

 Garden of thorn’s

Once overpowered by the potent smell of roses and trees,
Filled with honey and bees,
Littered with laughter and love,
Bathed in sunlight,
Kissed by sweet rain.

Now the thorns have grown,
Nourished by broken promises,
Seeded with pain,
Picked with hate,
Soiled with greed.

Thorns seek no beauty in gardens,
Only the pain that it feels when hurt.




Poet reflection: When I wrote this poem, I'll admit I was in an angry place with my life and myself. This poem to me represents how even the most beautiful things can feel the deepest pain. Sooner or later, all the trials and tribulations make you build a suit of armor and protect yourself. I've come to realize that having armour isn't a bad thing; all living creatures have their own form of armor. The walls we build aren't much different from the thorns that grow on roses. Just because one is timid to share their beauty doesn't mean they aren't willing to let the right one slip past the thorns.   

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