Analysis of Pick myself a rose

Set me free,
From the misery,
From this jealousy,
It’s eating me,
Killing me
Softly and quietly;

I don’t shed my tears,
Not in public at least,
I’ve learned,
They worth gold
for people self esteem;

Pick myself a rose,
To show myself some love
But it hurts,
To pick the rose on your own,
Its thorns
Sting and I started to bleed;

The blood is not red,
Not black,
But rather crystal clear,
Like the tears I shed
At night,
when I'm alone
in my room;