Skin Deep Poem by Leria Hawkins

Who would think a rose so sweet
Would dry and crumble at my feet
And blooms that scent my night and day
Would steal my heart, then fade away

With petals soft and fondly red
Sweet essence fills my addled head
Then turns to dust before my eyes
Leaving naught, but my surprise

Who would think such thorny vine
Could lift a blossom as divine
And by the stem on which it stands
Could so wrong my offered hand

Such strength and beauty is rarely true
A blessing owned by very few
As 'neath the soil, in winters keep
There sleeps a rose to tear my cheek

Who would think that perfect bloom
Could be a bane, a curse of doom
So fine a sight, yet in disguise
A rose to prick and blind my eyes