Roses Only

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You do not seem to realize that beauty is a liability rather
  than
an asset - that in view of the fact that spirit creates form
  we are justified in supposing
  that you must have brains. For you, a symbol of the
  unit, stiff and sharp,
conscious of surpassing by dint of native superiority and
  liking for everything
self-dependent, anything an

ambitious civilization might produce: for you, unaided, to
  attempt through sheer
  reserve,  to confuse  presumptions  resulting  from
  observation, is idle. You cannot make us
  think you  a delightful happen-so. But rose, if you are
  brilliant, it
is not because your petals are the without-which-nothing
  of pre-eminence. Would you not, minus
thorns, be a what-is-this, a mere
perculiarity?  They are not proof against  a  worm, the
  elements, or mildew;
but what about the predatory hand? What is brilliance
  without co-ordination? Guarding the
  infinitesimal pieces of your mind, compelling audience to
the remark that it is better to be forgotten than to be re-
  membered too violently,
your thorns are the best part of you.

© Marianne Clarke Moore