i never plucked the rose

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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

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