Rose

I am a rose
Not just any kind of rose
The original rose
My seed
It grows
Was planted deep into the ground
My roots clutch earth and refuse to be moved
Stem long and strong
With petals soft and silky
My fragrance rides on winds
Causing frowns to bend
I have been bottled
Soaped
Perfumed
Captured
Songs have been song
And poems have been written
But you will never get to know me
My history is forbidden
Because you continue to cut me down
Before my prime
Never taking the time
To recognize just who I am

I am a rose
I am both fragile and tough
So handle me with care
Don’t you dare handle me too rough
Or you will get hurt
Please don’t remove me from the dirt
I belong to Mother Earth
Not in your glass vase
Nor stuck between pages
In your bible on a book case
I belong with my family
With my shrubbery
Yet you find it necessary
To remove me from the heap
You cut me-
Cut me really deep
Changed my name
My future you did the same
I am to Rosa Berberifolia
As Toby was to Kunta Kente

Yet I will still grow
Even on this foreign soil
New name and all
I am beauty