Days like today,
I see myself as a rose.
Soft petals, red thorns.
If I let myself be picked,
I hope I am treated well.
I wouldn’t want to change
A thing about me.
If I am picked apart,
Changed to be like other roses,
I would lose my beauty.
If you pick off my flawed petals,
I will wither in your hands.
Take away my thorns,
And I lose my protection.
If I am to be yours,
Never change a thing about me.
I don’t want to be like other roses.
Let me be me.
