I don't think I have quite matured to my fullest,
but I am most definitely matured above cruelty.

You may not mistreat me, lie, cheat, or steal.
You may not crumble my walls that I must rebuild.
Most importantly, you must beware of me.

Beware of my tongue, for now it is sharp.
For now I am bitter, rather than enraged.
I have buried my faith so deep into you,
With nothing left to show for it.

Nothing but the scars on my psyche.
The scars that will blossom into buds,
Beautiful yellow buds that bloom in time.

In time for me to learn my worth, and value.
In order for me to regain the strength I once carried.
It is within, it has not escaped.

It will be freed in time.