Love hurts like a rose,
Seeming instantly attractive,
It too has it's thorns.
They hurt, they sting and burn,
they rip and burn.

The rose drinks the blood from you,
Constantly thirsting, never sleeping,
Morbidly deceptive and inconsistent
in it's beauties, in it's charms.
Always demanding the center
of attention, of affection.

What is wrong with hate? with sadness?
These never betray you, they never thirst
for more, happy with what they have.
Who wants love?

- Everyone-

Ciaran Quirke

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/love-hurts-like-a-rose/