Thorns of a Rose

She was a broken flower. Each petal used to the touch until they fell to the ground. Each flower she grew was torn by many. Her beauty captivated, as her thorns a challenge for each who pursued. She would wilt, as her roots would slowly die. Wisping away each petal, the men would give full a thimble of blood to each thorn grasped. She tried to grow even without thirst, but her growing was outdated... Never to last. Only to each choosing, would she be for their eye. One day a calm Gardner strode by. Looking each flaw, tendering careful through each thorn. Without a prick or pluck
Of her, thorn an petal he cared. Her strong roots once weak, all of a sudden there. For each drink of love he gave, she grew strong and brave... For what men he thought, would want to destroy an put her life in a soil dried grave?
Each day he loved her, and embraced each year. She than grew into the flower she was meant to be.. Strong and true, full of his love Without anymore fear.