The Darkest Rose

The Darkest Rose

The darkest rose was beautiful

not one but me would love it

I photographed it quietly

kissed its saddest petal

it cried in silence, and I knew

what it meant to be unseen

to bloom with no witness

to ache without reason

they pass by colours they understand

but I am shadow, thorn, and hush

I am not like the rest

and maybe I never was

I told it that to me your like me

so different unique.

The rose cried it said

if your truth was just spoken

then God made me just for you.