She Loves me; They Love us Not

Eyes; are prepubescent roses in fields
Because they have not learned to see us yet
They use their prickles as defensive shields
And instead they remember to forget
They won’t give us a chance to develop
Your love; like water, cannot reach my stem
Instead they let their poison envelop
Pesticides; have given solace to them
Your petals fall upon my bare flesh
My kisses fall upon your bare petals
Then beauty and death find a way to mesh
Their eyes open, mad, like steaming kettles
In full bloom, they shed their petals like tears
Not seeing we’re right, for seasons, for years