Translated from French:

Darling Thorn

Like a thorn

You hurt me

Like a thorn

You protected the flower

Like a thorn

You touched me deeply

Like a thorn

You made my blood run

Like a thorn

There is an untold number

But you were the one I wanted

So I picked you

But you pricked me instead

Like a thorn

I’ll remove you

And lick my wounds

Like a thorn

You’ll leave a scar

And I’ll look at it

While thinking of you

Because that’s all I have

As someone

Without a thorn.


From The Quiet Child – Poems

(c) 2007 Darlene C Alvarez (that’s me/c’est moi)