Penance

PINK

PENANCE

A rose thorn

Alone

Might be considered

A drone

But it guards

The flush

Of the first petals'

Plush

Guides one's

Nose

Where to smell

The rose

Shows fingers'

Touch

Not to pull

Too much

But colors in

Glut

Urge us snip and

To cut

Bring the outside

To in

Yet ignores all our

Sin

Like souls when

Confessed

Blooms of grace

Blossom blessed