confessions.

Dearest,
let these roses,
In their purity,
Be a present symbol,
Of my feelings for thee.
Underneath the blossom,
Thorns are sure to grow.
Take heed lest you touch them,
They would pain you so!
Ahhh! my faults like thorns are,
But cannot they be
Hidden 'neath the flower
Of my feelings for thee.
But forbidden are my feelings for thee,
as i can't let myself fall for you.
Keeping my feelings at bay,
is the only way i could ease the temptations.
sigh.