Her thoughts grew like white roses, but the thorns pierced her mind,
A paradoxical enigma , impossible to define.
Her cranium echoed the whispers of the words so unkind,
And though her legs rapidly carry her away, inside her head she is confined.
For her compassion had never been nurtured, therefore it did not grow,
When she needed water and sunlight, her petals were buried under snow.
But her roots have been lifted, and fixed in the earth's warm core,
now ultraviolet energy surges through her veins, and she is not cold anymore.