LOVE IS...

when you gave that rose to me,
why didn't you warn me -
that it was riddled with thorns?
now i lay bruised.
each wound -
a painful reminder
of petals that could've been mine,
if...
was only i in the wrong?
i sought to learn from you
what love
and loving
were all about.
for i knew not what caring
or being cared for
was.
but thank you for the lesson:
no, i'll never accept roses
and i'll never love again.