• a handsome rosebush
    and every petal
    blushes
    but no one there has the
    eyes to see it
    in the choking thistles,
    a lonely beauty is ugly
    lost on the eyes of the blind
    but then
    someone,
    innocent child,
    stumbles upon it
    with no words to loudly squawk
    of the elegance,
    she simply sits
    gazes
    in silence
    the others come
    to scold the lazy girl
    they spot the blossoms
    they proclaim of perfection
    from their ears, fine birdsong
    deemed worthy of the bud
    as do crows find their caws sweet
    what a shame, they simper
    that such treasure should be hidden
    in these ugly thistles
    shame
    that is is not displayed.
    with condemning clippers,
    they chop off the head
    hush, child, don't fuss so
    They cut it down,
    severed it from its roots
    isolated it in a prison of glass
    so that they could peer in
    and the flower peer out
    but never touch;
    you must safeguard those precious things
    the rose never saw the child then
    it wilted
    it sagged
    it lost its luscious color
    in want of water and air and sun
    of dark, rich soil
    of the thorns and thistles
    that were scorned as shameful
    but they did not see
    how the blossom and thorny stem and gnarled root
    were all of the same flower
    were all beautiful
    were all ugly
    were all
    were