Braiding Roses

Thorns and Petals

Photo by Mathilda Khoo on Unsplash

Grains once sowed, bleed through our hourglass.
Is it time to mend our meek masks?
Or time to forsake fake amends?
Or stay put; hope that pain shall pass?

Braiding roses we were, no end;
To nestle, outward spikes defend
Or pierce the other, choke in deed.
Thorns upon thorns, no poor pretend.

A lone, afraid said braid would bleed;
Unkempt, uncared, uproot with speed?
One disappoints; expects rescue.
Metal, not petals; sow dead seed.

Standing misunderstood, for rue;
Glade’s shade did fade, romance renew.
Mindsets mended, empathy true.
Red reach rose lips, no blame, no blue.