The Rose

I am a rose at the back of the tree –
A beauty which nobody sees.
Not that that stirs up hard feelings in me;
I’m not in this garden to please.

Although I won’t set off a bride’s rich bouquet,
Much less grace a bridegroom’s lapel,
My scent is as sweet as the ones’ on display;
Just not something nostrils shall smell.

And, when all my petals have faded and wilt,
They’ll do so in nobody’s sight –
Not out of shyness or a false sense of guilt,
Since I’ve always lived in the light.

I do what I do, and I do it my way,
Whether I’m seen or ignored.
To me, it’s as if each day’s Judgement Day,
And so I open my heart to the Lord.

Photo by Juliana Tanchak on Unsplash

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