Rose Poem by Signature Black

I am not perfect,
I am certainly no saint,
I’ve had my share of troubles,
But my heart is not of feint,

A rose can be most elegant,
But is guarded when it’s born,
For the beauty that it holds,
Is tainted by the thorn.

Through all its imperfections,
The rose is all so clear,
When the petals have the power,
To make you smile or shed a tear,

So let me make mistakes,
Like the thorny rose grew,
If you take away my demons,
My angels die too.