There once was a child
Young as buds not bloomed
With dreams of all that might be.
His spirit, wild
His hair, ungroomed
And hopes far beyond the sea.
His petals grew
Their untouched white
A canvas yet to flower,
But yet he knew
He’d have to fight
For he was not in power.
The glinting shears
And bloodied hands
The heads that often rolled,
He shed his tears
And fled the lands
For he knew those foretold
The taint of red
Forever stained
The cutting of his leaves
His blossoms shred
Forever pained
If the queen he did not please
For the artists that weren't and aren't accepted.