Of Roses and Thorns

Of Roses and Thorns

Once I wrote of angels and clouds

Of love and solitude

Of mountains and sunsets

Today, I write of roses and thorns

Once I thought I could be an angel

That I could be loved

That I could be free

Today, I simply think of me

Once I felt I could be eternal

Yet that I could be ephemeral

That I could be beautiful

Today, I feel I can be lost

Once I dreamed I was a bird

That I could almost be a song

That I could reach the horizon

Today, I realize I am wrong

Of angels and birds, of dreams and thoughts

Of both, eternal love and ephemeral freedom

Or ephemeral love and eternal loneliness

But I’ll think always of roses.

Thorny whites roses and solitude.