In life there are, you know it, those
who'll pluck the most exquisite rose
in selfish greed and place it in
a vase, and, later, in the bin.

The rose, you also know, was grown
to brighten lives all on its own,
a part of Nature, just like trees
and busybody honeybees.

Now, it is also known to all
that those who truly have the gall
to take what grows there, in the wild
as God's own legacy, his child

are those who never had a dream,
they stand and raise their fists and scream
up to the clouds to rant and rave
and think themselves as rather brave.

They will not touch the common tools,
and think that working is for fools.
They yell at God that He has grown
few roses for them all to own.

Herbert Nehrlich

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/god-s-roses/