Of Thorns and Beauty
He gave me a flower
I looked for thorns for an hour
Was I a fool?
Did I break a rule?
Beauty does not dwell within perfection
It shines through flaws and their unspoken
suppression
Bless the flaws, bless the scars
“Perfection” itself will break free to dance
He gave me another flower
I looked for thorns again for another hour
I found them and they were so beautiful
I was happy, I was no fool!
