ROSES ‘N’ SKELETONS

You live in a beautiful blooming garden,

I live in an old and washed up cemetery,

You’re the sweet dream they always reminisce about,

I am the scary nightmare they never wanna have,

Your place is in a beautiful vase standing on the King’s royal shelf,

My place is deep beneath the ground sleeping in a wooden box amongst the dirt,

Beauty and good is what you’ve always been,

Ugliness and bad is what my identity is,

You have been carried down an aisle in a bride’s warm hands in an atmosphere of echoing cheers,

I have been carried down a dusty path on the cold shoulders of the undertakers accompanied by tears and sadness,

You’ve been taken from your garden to the palace where you’ll be nurtured and loved unconditionally,

I’ve been taken from my prison cell to a waste land where I will rot away for all of eternity,

Your presence emits amazement and brings a smile on the faces of people who gaze upon your beauty,

The memory of me is a wrecking ball, it crushes and leaves pains in the hearts of people who harbour’s it,

In the end, i might be just a dried up skeleton and you an enchanting rose,

But I have freedom and you, you are owned