She Was A Rose By ceniqua l proctor aka nicole reed

So dainty as a rose cut from a bouquette,

Her thorns look so replenished,

Which signifies her defenses.

Her name is famous to all that greet her.

She's alone with not a ground to stand on.

She doesn't take long to reveal her age as her color rapidly begins to fade.

She can be exposed to water but her time is almost up.

Her beauty is perishable.

The rose that was once vain has shedded its last pedal.

It droops over unnourished from lack of love,

No effort

No protection

Nothing that it stands for.

It once made them proud.