my first attempt at poeming

me
sweet......beautiful.......i'm a rose
I'm handled with care, I'm fondled with fear
I'm taken off my feet with gloves like an elf
I'm placed in a bed adorned with wealth
...but...
it's not really 'cos you love me to an 'f'
as much as it is you loving your self
You don't handle me so subtly 'cos my scent fills your head
nor touch me so tenderly as the respect that I get
You cut me off, you give me out, and soon my scent you forget
you cut me off so tactfully, to avoid my briers from your hands
you cut me off, I'm not enough, i'm not the first, you've got my stem
It may or not be the wierdest poem you ever heard
But keep in mind its never really about you in the end