I was but a bud in a cage, a witness to a loathsome ‘home’,
observing hearts pierced on poisoned thorns, a Family syndrome
No light to grow my withering leaves, my petals dyed to black,
it seems the baggage placed upon this prison left quite a few cracks

Winters cold stunting growth, I found my mind had become numb,
This hatred, a seed sown, a personality becoming of equal sums
Nurtured on meals of spite and hated, a hunger that's never sated,
a grave prematurely dug for death’s early doors were fated

Sprouting into societies ques, blisters bleed on bitten smiles,
taking the chance at making a living and failing miserably in style
There's no crown for the mistakes, no ribbon for the easily forgotten,
brought up in this world where money talks to the spoiled rotten

Leave me be with my barren soil, for love won't help it thrive,
its thanks to my stubborn will that I'm even still here and alive
Voices speaking onto my deaf ears, spouting goals and security,
I'll make a world all my own, a green thumb altering my genes abilities


© Dominique Postgate