Rose

A rose is but a woman
Chaste, fragrant, prominent
Its thorns its protecting weapon
In haste to retaliate, violate

Roseate blossom is innocent, redolent
Wafting in air chaste fragrance
Crushed by anyone malevolent
Thorns'll pierce him bleed by vehemence

poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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