From under a veil of nurture and care emerges a vibrantly colored species surrounded by green bushels, luscious grass and among the best of habitats. Society’s hand-picked favorite among nature. Idolized for its dazzling exterior, never mind the stench. Beauties well groomed. Inherently romantic, never rejected from the time the first petal bloomed, destiny was already set. Chosen to be favored above the rest. All gorgeous, all special, though all the same. Protective edges used for pleasure. Those who grab too tight might pay the price of relinquishing the essence of life which resembles the robe she clothes herself in—blood—often linked with death but is the giver of life. So she must be righteous. Life and love must be vibrant, passionate, risqué, bland and replayed by millions who follow the same cliché.

There are those who may be seen as less fortunate by the more aesthetically pleasing majority. A group that either lost or never inherited their shine, luster and red colored cloak. Unlike their so-called superiors, these plants sprout up randomly in across the earth often being left to believe that they are outcasts due to the lack of millions of identical figures that their fiery red counterparts share. Although unique and rare they are not alone. The shade of their petals resembles the midnight sky more than anything else because it was through their endurance of darkness that their beauty began to shine. With every attempt to snap their core their thorns grew sharper, their surface rugged but strong. Realizing that the world around them seeks to demolish or degrade what they do not understand and cannot emulate, these precious flowers develop a stronger exterior as time elapses but within they remain soft.  Hardship, betrayal, and abuse are no foreign concept to these eloquent souls. In spite of vicious attacks to eliminate their beauty these soldiers live on. Taking the blows life throws but never letting the devil take hold of their heart. They have mastered the art of forgiveness, they remain open to love and continue to spread joy to others although the world has attempted to steal their sun. They do not follow the traditional path or seek to embody the values of society. Although initially timid they grow confident in their design and the intricacies of their magnificence. No, they are not alone, and although similar they have no twins, no copies. Each molded and shaped by their individual struggles, each harboring specialized loads of potential, love, and wisdom. The beauty that emerges out of heartache can be envied but never copied. It can be attacked but not destroyed. They did not emerge from bushels among grassy fields— they sprouted out of the cracks of despair. They are the rubies of society. We are black roses.