a red soft rose smell of literal love gives each other hope but when you look at what’s holding her hard and harmful thorns, gives each other fear. why do roses have thorns? Why does love hurt? Why is it that love is what i feel but you’re not here? distant in my soul attatched to my control please be part of my defects and make me pretty with your seriousness lets be one and not fight more conect our quite opposite souls. I’ll make you the thorn but please make me a rose.