Im 15 and wrote this pretty recently!.
A Black Rose Story
When you let lifes lies set you free, you've felt its beauty!. Like a Black Rose tells its stories, you already know them!. Like a black line that lay upon it, it tells of its suffering!. Its dew still laying on its petal, your weeping from sorrow!. Its thorns tell of its fight to resist, but it knows death blooms, like eclispe!. Its mere difference, it lays outspoken from the outside, well we keep it on the inside, its to bad!. Like a Black Rose, I only exist, but to those who have felt lifes beauty!.
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