Love is like a delicate rose,
with red, velvety smooth petals, layered delicately.
Soft to the touch, beautiful, romantic beauty hard to describe.
It should be picked gently.
But it is dangerous yet vulnerable.
It bears thorns to protect itself.
In some occasions, the thorns are stripped away.
The rose doesn't mind, but now it has no means of guarding itself.
When it is yanked out of the ground, the delicate petals may fall off, leaving the rose lifeless and afraid to bloom.
