To Be Loved Like A Rose Poem by G.A. Meyers

A sweat trickles down my spine
As I stare into her eyes
Like it's the very first time
Looking like a familiar stranger to me
And as I stare deeper
And deeper into the mirror,
It seemed
That a mere little daisy
Would want to be loved like a rose
And it sounds so crazy
She wants to conform
But even a rose has its thorns
Maybe, if she showered herself
With the purest water
Maybe, just maybe
She wouldn't falter and fall
And I watched her walk away
Filled with sadness and dismay
As the door closes
For who would pick a daisy
In a field of roses