Mother Nature

I held a rose today 

I grasped its thorns aggressively 

My ring finger was pricked

As if nature had told me,

“She is far too exquisite to be tainted

by those who do not understand 

the depths and complexity of her”

It had reminded me of womanhood,

when we tell those who trespass, 

“You have not seen me bloom, 

you have not seen my petals fall”

Their hand will reach 

for my coffee colored petals, 

but grip my thorns instead 


This poem is about: 
Our world


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