Jul 21, 2005 19:52
You're not at all like my rose. You're nothing...
An ordinary passerby would think my rose looked just like you. But my rose, all on her own, is more important than all of you together, since she's the one I've watered. Since she's the one I put under glass. Since she's the one I sheltered behind a screen. Since she's the one for whom I would kill. Since she's the one I listened to when she complained, or when she boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing at all. Since she's MY rose.