A Rose is a Rose
A Rose can come in different shapes and sizes, but there's beauty in even it's dullest thorns.

Most can’t see the colors of the wind or what life means until it ends
...
but state the universe spawned from darkness; so why judge the melanin in my skin?
—
Some say roses are red, and others say violets are blue
...
You proclaim the grass is green
...
and I say you are too.
—
Not green because of your complexion, nor green because you recycle
...
you're green because your life's direction is a shade oblivious to all its cycles
—
I’d judge myself when I felt down; as if happiness was a job that lasted part time
…
until I realized the moon could be full, and even then it has a dark side.
—
What is right when right is wrong, and what is left when nothings left to gain?
...
Why quarrel over a world that’s black and white..
...
I’d rather find peace in the areas that are grey.
—
Black faces, sad racists, mad basic class arrangements....
...
still I rose.
-
I had no father to pave the road, I had no mother to fill the role
...
left with a basic home education as my foundation..
..
yet still I rose.
—
See roses are white, roses are pink
...
roses are brown, and roses can stink!
-
How they smell is all perception
...
My skin is dark your skin is pale, but is that truly it's complexion?
_
So rise you beautiful rose with the dull thorns and unusual glow
...
because roses can live, roses can die, and roses can change the more they grow….
..
but no matter the roses color
...
A rose will always be a rose.
About the Creator
Jeremiah
Words are vibrations, words are colors, words are frequencies. I fell in love with words at a young age, and ever since then that passion has been unfolding into the most beautiful love story ever written. Follow me on my journey.


Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.