The Symbol of Love

Don't you wish that you were me?
If you were me, then I could be...
Something else; perhaps a rose.
What would that be like, you suppose?

To feel loved, but need not return
To be something which other yearn
To stand tall with beauty all day,
And in cold night, simply wither away.

I surely wish that you were me
For then I could be red and free.
Thorned, adorned, used, not abused;
Something to be admired.
To be a rose, I suppose,
Would never make me tired.