A Rose Of A Different Color

Roses, they vary in so many hues:

red, black, white, green, pink, purple, yellow and blue.

I'm telling you that I've carried too,

the letters: PTSD - ever since I was two.

Your poetry moves my soul. I peruse

your words and I feel so connected to you.

I've been abandoned. I've been abused.

I've even been shot for exposing some truth!

The thorns in my side are in there to stay:

Lead pellets in my legs ‘til my dying day.

I've lived through my death at least, once, still I'm here.

I know how to hold a rose. I have NO FEAR.

Hell was my Heaven, my Haven, my Head.

I'm only alive now, because I was dead!