Beauty
Like the thorns of a rose
Constantly pricking at my heart
Making it bleed and sting
Like a rosebud frozen under the ice
Looking for warmth
And wanting to grow
But being crushed
By the very caretakers
That should love it
But can’t
Because a misguided attempt
To make it something
It doesn’t want to be
Beautiful
Beautiful by their own definition
Not the only one that matters
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