When Roses Bleed Thorns

it’s time to prune them.

Waiting for seasons to change-

is like waiting for silence to resolve-

conflicts- a game of pride and rank.

thistles outgrow the rosebuds;

until color is lost to chaos-

like taste waning to cost.

So don’t lose faith to controversy.

barks dry out of life and pleasantry-

like a song that’s been forgotten-

to words like aphids plaguing-

roses with disease and decay.

watering their roots won’t stop-

the sap from staining your hands.

You can wipe your hands clean-

but they will still smell blood.

don’t just push away the thorns-

or leaves hinging on them-

for your roses will just grow deformed-

so cut off that gangrenous bark!

treat each branch like-

a finger that needs grooming-

through work and nutrition-

Not all your fingers are the same.

they lose their essence forever-

to protectors defecting -

to steal their blossoms.

the truth is lost to being right-

kindness is slayed in the name of pride-

like a hero turned in as a traitor!

feuds permeate the soil-

reaching the roots killing-

harmony and dissolving-

what was once a family. 

remember he who waters-

the rose must water the thorn-

for every rose tree is a family-

bearing a rose and thorn-

on each branch and bark.

take time to smell the roses-

but mind you thorns will remain.

So be like a rose not a thorn-

and open up yourself to beauty-

and Love to receive the truth-

about people, life, and family.

Author's Notes:

A family is a rose tree that bears both roses and thorns so open yourself like a rose to receive beauty and don't use words like thorns to bleed roses.

I can't speak for this poem's value and work for it was inspired from my father's wisdom. He was a great man who saw depth in the simplest of things. He believed nature is the best teacher and it was made for us to thrive in, with and learn from lifelong lessons.

by Pasithea on April 2, 2017.  © Anima Libera, All rights reserved