My father tells me that
I can make the most out of nothing
But
They tell me that
I am nothing
But thorns that ***** the skin

My mother tells me that
I am the sweetest harmony
Ever sung
Yet
They leave a note
In my desk
Saying
I am disgusting

And I am lost on my way
To find a sky I can call my own
My numerous footsteps
Make a perfect circle

It seems as if my roots
Are undone
And stuck
At the same moment.