I wasn't like that before, I was a flower, simple, unaware,
easy to love but also to walk on, I was free from fears and prejudices, I was beautiful in my naivety; I looked at others thinking that they were like me, I saw the good everywhere, I did not perceive the back thoughts, I did not understand the distorted perspectives, the evil end only in itself. I was clean, too transparent, I let anyone into my heart. I loved in the only way I knew: instinctively and completely.
Then that flower was mistreated, ignored, laughed at, hurt, rejected, abandoned.
It lost its beauty but remained firmly planted on the ground because it had strong and long roots.
But nothing has been the same as before.
I surrounded myself with obstacles and walls, higher and higher, I closed myself so as not to reveal the thoughts of my heart to anyone. I hid, as best I could, so as not to be found. I attacked because I had no other weapons to defend myself.
And now I have become a flower covered with thorns, perhaps I am no longer beautiful to look at. Maybe not even to love.
But I await those who patiently know how to extricate themselves, who will accept to get hurt, who will not look at the thorns but will see beyond, who will simply free me.