• Her skin are the soft paddles,
    Smooth and frail,
    That an easily fall out,
    But she is also like a paddle,
    That if it has fallen out,
    The rest will follow.

    Her will is the stem,
    Bracing the fragile paddles,
    That will fall out
    In any minute or any second.
    But what is more important is,
    It will stand strong and tall.

    The thorns are her weapons,
    Keeping away anyone,
    Who wants to abuse
    What is precious to her.
    She is as sharp as a needle.

    The leaves are her wings,
    With thorns all over her body
    She needn't to have any arms.
    Because her wings will carry her foward,
    Bringing her hopes and dreams.

    The roots are what keep her alive.
    It pierces into the dark chocolate soil,
    And absorbs its nutrients.
    The nurtrients that help her grow
    Tall and strong, making her what she is.
    A beautiful bright rose,
    Standing her ground.