The gardener


you my dear were a gardener
a small plot of dirty so rugged
yet filled with frail white tulips
I was a stray rose you had planted
with fiery untamed petals
my imperfections would never fit in
with an white ocean of perfectly alined petals
I had watched in a sunny daze
as you would pluck the tulips away
their roots exposed to your palms
for those were the most beautiful
taken away for their beauty to wilt
you uprooted them for their beauty
but when you pluck them away
you killed the innocence within them
to watch them wither at you finger tips
since you had the power to dig at them
And with the tulips roots exposed
i’ve learned the tulips white petals
were never meant to let the sun shine on them
so when you reached you for me
with your lifeless hands
you didn't know i wasn't like the tulips
i had thorns that cut deeper than the words you yelled at me when i wouldn't let you take me away
my thorns cut deep
but not as deep as the burns you left on my petals

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