THE ROSE by Bob         God gave me a flower         a graceful,perfect rose         it set my heart a flutter         it's beauty gave me prose.         but when i tried to pluck it         God reached and stilled my hand         "no child," was his soft order         "`twill wither!" his command         i sulked with indignation!         what kind of gift was this?         to gaze upon it's petals         but never feel their kiss?         how cruel to leave me wanting!         how could he let me cry?         to tempt me with it's beauty,         oh, what a hateful lie!         and so i sat and pondered         when all my rage was spent.         and gazed upon th' flower         that heaven surely sent         then finally i asked him         "why make me so forlorn?"         God smiled and said "it is a rose"         "did you think there'd be no thorns?"