Some say that they search

For a rose among weeds

Casting away the others

Like ungrown seeds


Just throwing them to the ground

And tramping all over

Knocking them aside

Like an unlucky clover


Some roses are white

The purest of them all

And the love dare not

Ever let them fall


Some roses are red

So beautiful and kind

Everyone can see that

Even if they're blind


Yet some roses are black

They were the weeds

They have grown into roses

From those little seeds


The black roses have

Been through it all;

They weren't pretty enough,

They let them fall


This rose has learned

That to survive

You must be

The toughest rose alive


So if you pick this rose,

Be careful;

This rose has thorns

The End

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