Roses

Growing up in a jungle Not a single soul To keep you free from the weed With hogs on the loose Grumbling with hunger Will you whither and fall Like a skin bottle in the smoke When the malign ones come Sharp fanged, salaiva dripping Ready to feast Hankering your soul; Perhaps if you can and dare Bypass the pitfalls Outstrip the wicked one With your decayed background And an unfamiliar name will your fruit be cloying?