guess what its a poem

the rose of its own unmaking

was never meant to be any more

only a rose

nothing more

nothing less

under the sun it didnt shine

under a rock it trembled

it couldnt float

couldnt sing

couldnt dream

couldnt hope

it was just a flower

that was all in its making

no pearls in its petals

which would weigh in its folds just as rain

raindrops

only rocks above it

which could support its weight

the rose could only drop 

pearl amongst pearl

raindrop against raindrop

onto the rock

as it soaked

and they both lay soaked 

unable to do anything 

as the rose was just a rose

unmaking oneself

petal under petal

and thats all that it was

only a rose