i never plucked the rose

I never plucked the rose
i admired it from a distance
afraid the thorns may prick my skin
afraid its beauty may never bore me
i never plucked it but i watched it
it grew in circles around me
i never protested i nurtured it
it was a Beautiful Rose
until the thorns began to prick me
and i was trapped amid the thorns
i bled till i could bleed no more
my tear ducts ran dry
so did the rose wilt
But despite all this
I never plucked the rose
to end my misery