the bush (first in a trilogy)

The Bush
Thorny, ugly, dark, foreboding.
To compare thee to a rose
Is to compare a rock to a sculpture,
Art to rubbish.
What purpose does your ugliness serve
But to draw the veiwer's eye,
Not to but fro.
The Bush
The rose has thorns,
As do you,
Yet it is declared beautiful.
How could your thorns fathomably be used,
But to protect something exquisite,
Alas, you bear nothing of the sort.
The Bush
The rose is bright and vibrant,
You are thick and dark.
Your forebodingness is useless,
For it only drives them away.
The Bush
You aren't as poetic as a rose
Which has been proven time and again.
As you sit there,
As they bask in their glory,
You remain forgotten.
What does your darkness hide,
But nothing, for we are one in the same.
Oh Bush
Oh Bush
You are not alone.
The Bush.