Just a voice, a song, a touch
to hear, or see, or feel as such
all the beauty that is ours
as a single rose among the flowers
stands out and seen above
for all the times it speaks of love
and we accept it lovingly
but where is what we cannot see
behind the eyes and 'neath the skin
where beating truth is held within
waiting for its time of free
more than a rose could ever be
a feeling that could never lie
and one would never need question why
and always is to freely give
for not for roses do we live