I’d like to tell a story now
About a rose that spread its petals out
To understand the concept of pain
It sought to learn what the world would do to such beauty
And the world tore at its petals over and over
Again and again
However the rose took the beating in good spirits
Saying that from the knowledge given it had much to gain
And when it had finally lost the attention of its torturers
The rose started to heal and to loneliness learned to refrain
The hurt this elegant plant suffered is a hurt from which no one has ever recovered
Although this rose now trampled with no petals has learnt the lessons of life
Hardship hasn’t left it and now ugly
It lives with the same strife
The burden that crushes it now is the same burden that weighed it down before
And although I understand what the plant has learnt
I still think that it hasn’t changed the law
The law by which we live and die
The law by which try to reach for stars
Reach for dreams and fail
The law that condemns and never brings a high
The rose didn’t alter the way in which it sauntered
It didn’t find an easier way despite all that it was taught
And now it still strolls in the way that deems us underlings
The way in which we walk
So as it goes:
Although the rose has learnt some things
It’d rather have never been taught
