If There Are Thorns

The roses are wilted and the violets are dead,
The sugar bowl's empty and so is your head,
Thought you were kind, a soul worth my while,
Blooming like flowers and making me smile,
A scent on the breeze,
Not hard to please,
I've a wish that I'd never been born,
Where are you roses if there are thorns?
Highest priestess speaks in clear tone,
Brings healing to the villagers dying alone,
Gentle lonesome wind blowing through this October,
Drunken mad man slowly growing sober,
A warmth in the air,
Blows through her hair,
I've a wish that life lived without scorn,
Where are you roses is there are thorns?
Princess of majesty bathing by the moon,
Writing till the dusky dawn in the solace of her room,
Biting on her lower lip as nervous tensions rise,
Coldest cubes of ice make up the bodies of the lies,
Touched by the spirit,
Without ways to clear it,
I've a wish that hearts would mend once been torn,
Where are you roses if there are thorns?
Time twisting turns of the rocky dirt road,
Stop watches ticking as our lives are written in code,
Cannot understand what is inked into the skin,
Deaf to all the voices that echoe from within,
Drab colors now stain,
Blood leaks but I feel no pain,
I've a wish that needs to be sworn,
Where are you roses if there are thorns?

This is one of the deepest poems I've ever written. It's fucking meaningful. My mom found out about last night, and I'm grounded for a week. Joy. Thank God she didn't cancel the holiday reunion. I'm not allowed on the PC even. Sneaking this in while I'm doing my Science project. Well, whatever. I'm sleepy and need Panadol. Oh, yeah. Note to self; be more careful where I throw stuff next time.