Maybe all Roses do is hide the Thorns

Burstling streets with vendors yelling,

The smell of flowers and sweat hung in the air

The jingling of anklets and the beeping of cars

Well, it was just another day at the local bazaar

I was five, holding my mother’s hand, pointing at a balloon

When the ground beneath my feet was no longer there

And I was up high in the air

I cried out to my mom flapping around with no control

“It’s just a kiss on the cheek and a pat on your shoulder”, I was told.

And with a lump in my throat, I managed to smile

And I’ve been ever since,

Trembling with fear, a storm raging inside

They said, “It’s just how love’s supposed to feel like”,

Like roses I thought love’s embrace would feel

But maybe all those roses do is hide the thorns.