top of page

rose -- poetry by Madeline Wadsworth

  • Writer: Editor
    Editor
  • Dec 31, 2020
  • 1 min read

i am not a dainty rose

painted dusty pink

like sunsets and afterglows

—rather the pink of dried

blood from where my thorns

jabbed you and drew sweet

oozing red


i am not to be picked

for your amusement

then thrust into

icy water

—waiting for the numbing

to leave my body


i am not to be stared at

through a glass cage

just because my looks

appease an animal

such as you


i am not yours to keep

nor am i yours to take



 

Madeline Wadsworth is fifteen years old and a high school freshman residing in

New York City. When she is not writing poetry you can find her lost in a book,

listening to music, or out in nature. This is her first publication.


Comentários


© 2025 by The WEIGHT Journal.                          Highlighting the best in teen writers. 

bottom of page