Amidst the rubble of earthly stubble...
of stones and dirt that'll squeeze life double...
A rose had took the trouble to burrough through...
Everything beautiful is wrought with struggle...
If she hadn't been all alone, she'll only be half as amazing...
The hazing of the blazing sun, shaping her strength through all it's harshness...
Wrenching the tears of toiling dew droplets saving herself for darkness...
Hiding herself to cry...wishing inside to die in tha fight...
Only to smile, hiding her trials in an elegant style when brought to light...
Never once did she forget that she received everything she needed...
water and nutriant soil to feed, and a crack through the rock she superceded...
The ill placing of her seed seemed strategic...
Like God had a message for the world...
The beautiful rose is a beautiful girl...
Who has gone against the grain her whole life...
Only to find that she has been defined just the same,
Blossoming...a treasure to any man's sight...
And so I picked you, but not for a vase...
where you'll die alone...aging your beautiful face...
But to plant you roots and all, you become perfected...
To show yourself, each year growing more and more
respected...
to a gardener a rose is a symbol of affection...
And you are a passionate reflection....


Muslim and Muslim child