The Black Rose

I planted a seed underneath the concrete; unable to feed it what it needed, it seemed obsolete.
Aware of the complications to this plants creation, stationary I stood depending on faith to advocate me in my dedication.
As I waited for the rose to rise, I rose my head to look up at the sky; wondering why a guy like me is doing this and why I'm even trying.
I guess I just wanted to see beauty penetrate the tough surface giving it the purpose to teach me that beauty lies within each person.
The hard reality that everyone else sees on the outside fails to expose the rose underneath; so the cracks in the concrete are all that they see and all that they know allowing beauty to seem surface deep.
If they stuck around to see what's in the ground, the very foundation that reveals the variation of our souls, they would know that beauty can be seen even from the deepest of holes.
After much debating, contemplating and waiting, I had concentrated on a view so intoxicating; even correlating with my previous statement.
There I saw in front of me, a healthy, black rose that broke through; unknown as to how it changed its hue, it did what I didn't think it'd be able to do: it grew through the barrier into something new, teaching me that even a plant can do it, too.
Although the mystery of it's dark beauty is still a surprise, I won't question it; just make the best of it and understand that it came through, despite what may have tested it.