A poem I wrote under the name of Trabonet in early 2000. When enjoying my rose bushes and messing with them, this poem came to mind because of always getting jabbed by those thorns when I’d try to cut them for putting in a vase. It reminded me of how we should treat a love one or how to treat children (especially as they struggle in their teenage years, and we adjust to how to mentor to their needs). We hold too tight and sometimes children push back.
Peabea
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