My mother is a rose in a garden of violets She forgets her beauty because she looks different I tell her she’s beautiful But she only hears she needs to lose weight My mother’s once bright petals are wilting away And becoming dust getting caught in the wind Somehow she mistakes skinny for healthy And fat with ugly My mother is a dying rose in growing fields The rain no longer growing her but stopping on her shrinking form Her beauty is no longer seen outstanding in gardens And her body no longer full of life My mother is slowly disappearing to make room for the new generations of self hatred and low self esteem