Kerri DiSalvatore // TO BE A ROSE

I’d rather be a shy, unassuming daisy,

Cheerful and bright like a glowing star.

Pure white petals blowing gently in the summer breeze…


They can be like roses,

Always bold-beautiful-cherished and admired

But covered in sharp-ugly-thorns.


They can live a striking-bold-existence,

Hurting everything they touch,

They can remain trapped in a tight-cold-vase

Or lumped together in a bouquet of dopplegangers.


I would rather have a mild, defenseless, existence.

To inspire others, without hurting them,

Resting atop an emerald hill 

Or hidden in the shadow of a wise old tree.


I’d rather be innocent and if,

Then avoided by everyone.

Rather than to be a boldly-beautiful rose,

That pricks the hands of innocent admirers


A rose that stains anyone who reach out to it with red

A rose that seduces people with its beauty,

Only to harm them.


I’d rather no one know me at all

Then be known only by the pain I cause,

If I could be gentle, peaceful and kind

I’d rather be a daisy.