Black Rose!

Little black rose with thorns that grow upwards not down, I smell your sweet scent breathing you in then out

Little rose that sits with unique beauty in it’s own lane, I see you and it’s you that’s a reflection of me

Not quite appreciated and not quite ignored, but a giver nevertheless, ora sad but yet standing tall with representing joy

Little black rose I watch as you grow, as I do in conditions that were laid out to make you, you

Not quite used for happiness and not quite sure of the world precipitation of you. Little black rose you are me and I you! – Donnie Sharrell