I am a deep maroon rose
Dark and easy to wilt
A hot cup of chamomile tea
Warm and relaxing on a chilly night
In a group,
I'm shy and quiet
Only talking when I'm spoken to
But unsure of whether I really belong
I am the cozy and worn corner-chair
Comforting and soft, but often overlooked
The lulling melody of a piano,
Playing a gentle ballad to the darkness
