The rose - beautiful as can be - was not designed to withstand infinity.
Blessed are we, to appreciate the beauty - with eyes to see.

As the rose struggles within,
The deep cut wears the rose’s strength thin.

Not knowing how to express in words the pain -
The rose bears thorns, so touch is refrained.

Rose fragrance, for all to enjoy, perfumes the air -
As it wafts such a pleasurable scent - not despair.

Such a beauty can't help... but draw attention,
The rose does not acknowledge, as it seeks affection.

To bury the core pain from the cut, this now travels the stem.
The withering has now started unbeknownst to them.

On the outside - the beauty is now in full bloom -
Emitting its perfume, throughout the room.

The rose uses all, with which it's equipped - to reach out...
Others stand in awe - and love the rose, without doubt.

It's not apparent... until the first petal falls,
The sweet fragrance may soon leave these walls.

By the time the withering comes to surface,
The rose inside no longer knows its purpose.

For its own beauty - it does know or see,
Only the withering inside - which has now- become its reality.

Judge not the rose, for that - which it does not know, with condemnation...
Nor should the rose condemn those, left in frustration.

For the rose - beautiful as can be - was not designed to withstand infinity.
Its beauty and fragrance will be.... remembered... for all of eternity.

With Love,
Tina Camden, 01.13.07