I never knew when I grew to be so cold

colder than the snow making burns on the fingers

was it the thorns or my perplexed roots?

I was tender that I used to cry

now being a rock I forgot to cry

I wanted to be hard

I wanted to be strong

I wanted to evade my fears

I wanted to be brave

but can I really be victorious

when I finally lose myself?

and now when I see the rose in my garden,

the thorns can never hide the beauty nor the aroma,

I teach myself everyday

to be myself and be better not harder

that's what really makes everyone glow..

Writer's Note: This poem was triggered by an incident which I regreted so much in doing.

It took me so much time to put a title to this poem. I can't say I am utterly satisfied by this rn. So, I give the readers a chance to do so. The credits shall be given on this poem and a shout out to the respective person who gives the best title in a week's time.