Rose Is Still A Rose

Doo doo doo doo doo doo mmm
Dooby dooby doo doo doo doo
Doo doo doo doo doo doo mmm

There was a rose I knew, I met her once or twice before
She was a pretty sweet thing, not the least bit insecure
Then you came with your slick game and played with her youth
Ashamed of the way you lied, played with the truth, hey, hey

Mmm, she never knew what hit her
Steal her honey, then forget her
Now the rose is scorned
She wears her thorns tryin' to forget about you

‘Cause a rose is still a rose
Baby, girl, you're still a flower
He can't leave you and then take you
Make you and then break you
Darling, you hold the power 

Now believe me when I tell you that I've been hurt myself
When he tells you that he loves you and sees nobody else
And now you're so tough tryin to wear tight clothes and things
Tossin' and flossin, trying to fill the void heartbreak brings

Oh..oh..yeah
When she faces the mirror, yeah
She's crying, you can't hear her
Now the rose is scorned
She wears her thorns trying to forget about you

Cause a rose is still a rose
Baby, girl, you're still a flower
He can't lead you and then take you
Make you and then break you
Baby, girl, you hold the power

See a rose is still a rose
Baby, girl, you're still a flower
He can't lead you and then take you
Make you and then break you
Darlin', you hold the power

Let your life be in the sunshine
Not the darkness of your sorrow
You may see your all today
When you know will come tomorrow

Tough to be, but life ain't over
Just because your man is gone
Girl, love yourself enough to know
That without him your life goes on
Without him your life goes on
Without him your life goes on

Cause a rose is still a rose
Baby, girl, you're still a flower
He can't lead you and then take you
Make you and then break you
Baby, girl, you hold the power

See a rose is still a rose
Baby, girl, you're still a flower
He can't lead you and then take you
Make you and then break you

- Aretha Franklin, A Rose Is Still A Rose

There's nothing better than gardening. When you're a little girl, they call it playing in the mud. When you're a grown up, it's called "gardening". I spent most of the day sweating and digging up weeds. I mowed the back yard, mowed the front yard, and put down some mulch around the plants and trees. By the end of the day, I felt exhausted and exhilarated. My whole body was covered in dirt and all I could think about was how beautiful life is right now at this very moment. The trees, the smell of freshly cut grass, and the sun on my face overwhelmed all of my senses. Life goes on. 

Roses are my favorite flowers. I planted a pink rose bush today. Red symbolizes passion, yellow was considered horrendous until the early 20th century, and purple is a symbol of grace and majesty. The rose bush I planted today was pink. Pink is my favorite color and symbolizes enchantment. When I bought her at the store, she had one small pink rose bud sticking out of the top. Unfortunately the rose bud died a week ago, but the roots and thorns were still left over. I planted it today in the backyard (full sun of course) and gave her a new life in the outside world. I felt like a mother when I fretted about whether I was planting her too deep or if I had waited too long to let her outside. It wasn't until I stepped away from her that I realized everything will be alright. Yes, she may have lost her flower, but she was still here. Strong and putting her old roots in new ground.

A Rose Is Still A Rose

Just as the rose bush I planted today had placed her roots in new ground, I began to replant my own. The pain of the loss I felt when Mr. Passion left is beginning to fade. I may have lost a beautiful bud, but I am still a rose.  I may have been jumbled, tossed, and turned a bit bitter but I am still the same flower I was when I began my life's journey. I'm hurt. I'm angry.  But I'm still here. Who knows, someday I may find myself sprouting a new flower that is more vibrant and fragrant than the first. 

I'm all thorns now, but that doesn't change who I am and will always be-a Rose

Stop and smell the roses... well not this one, I'm all thorns

P. Manolos