Prose poetry

 Prose poetry

The thorns on the rose

How I love my greenhouse,

the sight of it gives me so much bliss.

Flowers everywhere, with some plants around,

the scent like heaven, so hard to replace.

But the one that stands out from them all

 is the one and only rose, whom I cherish the most.

The only light in my gloomy life.......

but its beauty doesn't compare to its touch.

No one can't go near it, no one should see it.

For whoever goes nighing it,

would suffer the consequences,

of the deadly thorns on the rose.