You look at them and you see charm,
You become enchanted by their beauty,
You fall in love unintentionally with them,
You draw closer to them with glee,
Knowing not that they are thorny roses.

Like an Icarus flying too close to the sun,
You cannot resist their fine ornament,
You get tangled in their sturdy vines,
Before you untangle from their spell,
Behold, you succumb to their thorns.

You love them, they wound you,
You cherish them, they bruise you,
You caress them, they blotch you,
You water them, they destroy you,
Thorny, thorny, thorny roses.

I am now barefoot because of them,
Tormented and broken because of them,
Dead yet alive because of them,
Bitter and shamed because of them,
Oh thorny roses, ain’t you ashamed of yourself?

I am a shadow of the woman I was,
Before I set my eyes on your deceiving beauty,
Overwhelmed with hate and resentment,
As empty as a sunny dry desert,
My heart is ripped to shreds and trashed,