Mother's only wish
before she married
a man she never knew,
was a rose garden.
She got one,
but the thorns
outnumbered the roses.
Every morning as she wakes up
and waters her garden,
thorns spring up
to choke, and stab
her fair skin.
She smiles innocently
like her wedding picture,
looking only at her roses
each a different color of red,
never noticing her halo
being replaced
by a crown of thorns.