What were your chances to grow
with a foundation as toxic as poison?
Words of endearment thrown around
more often as dishes and rolled eyes

Dressed You were to cover the fertilizer
The worker ants worked down below
Struggling to make it to the top
Even they cried to break free

Selecting you from the hardware store
Someone comes by with a green thumb
Your tag claims you as a corner item
Will they give you time to prove it wrong?

But can You love the love
that knows how to feed You?
Stretch your roots over the old soil
from new hands that tuck you in tightly