Alas dear one, even the most tempting rose has thorns,
to have a kiss from thy love in the most beautiful of morns,
the temptation the urning the catching of glee,
this is why everyone is afraid to get close to me,
I have a poison upon my cherry red lips,
the urning is there to grab ahold of my hips,
A laugh into the darkness of the fog through the night air,
a brush with death just to touch my soft silky hair,
The one rose in a field full of daisies,
the one sane one in a room full of crazies,
a choice but to almost die just for one smooth kiss,
a moment of pure and true everlasting bliss,
would thou risk it all and die for one simple pleasure,
or go on wondering....what that kiss would endeavour??