She too lives an unscripted reaction
with teardrops watering the bed of thorns
and every petal red as blood
filled in anger and shame

She too holds a heavy head of inaction
on a stem as thin as scorn
They say she could have been the one
to avoid this world of pain

But roses are grown; not birthed
and watered by hands unskilled
Each is delicate in a garden alone
as they reach for the sun

Far and above the tainted earth
Blooming now by her shear will
A rose protected here has shown
she will not be undone

She too has faced her weeds
and at times the thistles in turn
The light can sting though it heals
Sometimes the water burns inside

She paid the price for someone's greed
but that has helped her learn
Her own thorns show how she feels
but those she will never hide