The Rose

Blooming in a field is a rose

Not the same kind that clings to your house

This one grows wild and free

Wanting nothing more

Than to live and breathe

Right where it is

With no affinity for the one

That requires constant care

Your watering




There is a horse running in the wild

That would rather die

Than be your pet

The one you put in a barn

Throw some hay to every day

Show off to everyone that cares.

It would rather be free

Run amok

Find its own food

Its own shelter.


There is a woman

That will not throw herself at your feet

Begging you to do anything

But will walk her path

And you may walk with her

If you’d like.

0000000000000000000001aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarose, roses, woman, path, freedom



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