The Rose That Grew From Concrete You’re tired of everyone letting you down You’re constantly picked upon But before you can begin to recover. Someone’s there to take you on. It’s a constant fight for survival Taking sacrifices to make ends meet But you show a glistening sign of hope Like the rose that grew from concrete. Your brightest moments linger But your orbit remains askew As everybody starts to realize The one to depend on is you. They promise you numerous changes Still their actions - indiscreet In solitary confinement The rose that grew from concrete. Your construct is unique In a world so mysteriously vast Everyday is leading up to the stories Remembered from the past. It was only a matter of time Until your blessed soul gave birth You are the rose that grew from concrete You are mother nature, Earth. Against all odds You live through God You are The Rose That Grew From Concrete. © Michael T. Perrault
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