In life there are, you know it, those <br />who'll pluck the most exquisite rose <br />in selfish greed and place it in <br />a vase, and, later, in the bin. <br /> <br />The rose, you also know, was grown <br />to brighten lives all on its own, <br />a part of Nature, just like trees <br />and busybody honeybees. <br /> <br />Now, it is also known to all <br />that those who truly have the gall <br />to take what grows there, in the wild <br />as God's own legacy, his child <br /> <br />are those who never had a dream, <br />they stand and raise their fists and scream <br />up to the clouds to rant and rave <br />and think themselves as rather brave. <br /> <br />They will not touch the common tools, <br />and think that working is for fools. <br />They yell at God that He has grown <br />few roses for them all to own.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/god-s-roses/
