I\'ve seen many roses
But why is it that every rose I pick out
Only has thorns on it\'s stem
You\'ve only ever seen my back
No, you refused to look me in the eye
No doubt those daggers belong to you
The daggers that damaged my spine
Now where to find confidence
Without a spine?
That which held my back
Had dispersed into thin air
Every tear Formed an ocean
In which I\'d use to ponder
The same spine resting on the waves
To bring me to my senses
To realise being In the wrong herd
Could have a drastic impact on ones life
That\'s certainly not where I belong.