Every Rose

Every Rose

Every Rose

Oh tell me, Sweet Pretty, please tell me of him
Does he carry his cross? Is he out on a limb?
Or does he still look over shoulder to blame?
Anything else but himself and his shame?

Looking around for different of things
Is such a lame falsehood reserved for the kings
Everyone else has looked deep inside
And found that from self, they never can hide

I think that he knows just how I feel
He also knows where he gets his next meal
You ask me of what could I see in that man?
The same thing you saw, Dear, my feet then did land

Have one of my own supporting best half
Don’t know, Guess that’s how I manage to laugh
I borrowed without consulting you first
A friendship like that can be a big curse

Anyway, every Rose has its thorn
It pricked me, but now my heart isn’t torn
I’m managing fine, you’re happy as well
As far as I know, but it’s so hard to tell

This content is protected.  No reproduction allowed without my written consent.

About bognetta

Love has been so much more powerful than other people's control. I think it's all love, but sometimes it doesn't feel like love. That is because so many people are defensive, protective, and do not care to trust in that four letter word...love!
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