Life happened

Strolling through a rose garden, she scorched her thumb on a thorn
To appease the burn she tugged it in her mouth, her eyes to the rose turned, in scorn


What had she done to the malevolent sanguine flower
To give it the almighty hurting power


To the sun the flower turned its head, imploring forgiveness
For she was the victim of nature's random ruggedness 


Thumb healed and heart settled, the fairy touched the petals to her cheek
And up came the oh so sweet fragrance of blissful chic


The flower had not wronged her purposefully 
It had no mind of its own to control its folly


Life happened on that day
At least, that's what they'd say

Technicolor poet