Things of naught | Mary Cox

I sat there staring at the flower
a rose, a thing of beauty
it's meaning-- love.
Why had a thing of such beauty
become such a prized possesion
if handed to a girl
from a man she loved.
Originally it might have been just a flower
but now it's structure, it's color,
everything about it held so much more meaning.

A frog some believed that if you kissed the right one,
It would turn into a hansom prince
Stealing you away on his beautiful black stallion.
Some girls may have spent their lives kissing frogs,
hoping that one day they might find that special one.
It too was once just a green frog,
but now it seemed to hold the key to every girls dreams.

How many roses would they have to go through before
realizing that it was not the rose
which told the women the man actually loved her?
How many frogs would one girl kiss
before giving up and searching
amoung human race.
Finding that where in lied
her actual prince,
waiting to pull her aboard his black stallion.