Not one of the roses

they gave us their promise
and they likened us to roses
every one of us could be
so long as they chose us.

on our graduation day
we were as free as the wind.
they told us to be
everything they could send.
the world welcomed us
with wide open arms
like roses we blossomed
no one was harmed.

in college they taught us
so we'd all think the same.
the promise was test scores
that the best would remain.
and the worst was so ugly
as to not be a rose
of which the teachers
quickly disposed.
the thinking was different
too many questions were asked.
so the great promise that was given;
that promise didn't last.

and here I am;
Not a rose;
though I know many indeed.
Of many odd colors
None of which are free.
they gave us their promise
and they likened us to roses
The roses framed
expensive papers; themed posters.

But I, here I am!
with a far different plan
in a sea of perfumed noses.
away from their teachings
and expensive false preachings
I remain.
Not a rose, no siree
But a dense willow tree
Growing where no rose will grow.
Growing, always growing
With roots running deep
anchoring me in
Only then am I free.