Only the strongest of hands can truly appreciate her rose.
Her rose is clothed with petals of dignity and strength.
Protected by sharp spurs of mended wounds inflicted by childish dudes. of her past.
Her rose has endured the test of shallow words of affection;
The test of devastating heartbreaks.
But her rose still remains planted and unblemished.
And it laughs at the superficial acts to come saying "Bring it on".
You see, her rose is wiser now. So it will no longer fall for the hollow promises, the false "I love you's" or the "tell me what I wanna hear so I spread my legs" Bullshit lines anymore. Her rose peers right through that.
Her rose is rooted in the soils of trust,
fueled by the rays of truth and water by the mighty rains of heaven.
Her rose is planted so deeply in the pastures of the almighty God
you will have to seek him first before you could even get a glimpse of one single petal.
Her rose is sacred.
It can be handled by hands of fortitude, that will never falter.
Hands of tenderness that aren't afraid to show affection.
Hands of care that will never lose sight of how much it means to her.
Only those hands will be worthy of her most precious possession.
Only to those hands will she willingly grant her rose.
Only those hands will be endowed with her HEART.
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Love's Lessons
PoetryWe all think we know it. What it is. What it is not. How it feels. How to show it. How to receive it. But the truth of the matter is, we do not have the slightest clue about it. How complex it is. How much depth it has. How many faces it wears. This...
