You were like the rose—

Sweet, loving, and red.

You were also like its thorns—

Piercing, sharp, but still beautiful.

Meanwhile, I'm just a little grass,

Growing underneath you.

Blown away by the wind—

Ignored, fragile, and small.

I feed upon your love,

While getting scarred by your thorns.

I love, I bleed,

And I fall.

But, it's worth it.

Everything is.

Just to have a little taste,

of your piercing,

yet one of a kind,

love.