Born from spoiled soil
I burst through with ambition
A sprout rooted firmly into a state of corrosion
I grow thriving on self-cultivated energy alone
The toxic pollution in the atmosphere
Runs down my premature stem
Seeping into my fragile foundation

I know the connection between fantasy and reality
Virtually stuck in a dogmatic society

My nourishment was neglected
So I struggle to survive
A delicate sprout, no longer, am I
I have produced thorns to shield my heart from deceit
A bud of serenity in a land of defeat
I, a rare species, only one of my kind

I know the connection between fantasy and reality
Virtually stuck in a dogmatic society

I was born from spoiled soil
Yet no rain has quenched this terrain
Until a tantalizing breeze is placed
Upon my existence
An alien substance poured down
My silhouette, I was in need of this gift
Suddenly, I am re-born
It has rained
The dew of the morning is set free

I know the connection between fantasy and reality
Virtually stuck in a dogmatic society

Foreign lights, is cast upon
My exterior state of being
Hidden deep with in the layers of pain
I grow into a petal beauty
each petal significant to a meaning
That has lifted me from my sorrow
I, am a concrete rose
The future of tomorrow