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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