Standing proud in the bright moonlight

Seeking attention and swaying with grace

What is need for a tiny weed in this beautiful place?

My veins are becoming colder, and colder

I sulk lower and start to wither

The looks in my invisible eyes

Are becoming bloodshot red, angry, and bitter

I twist and I bend, and I bend and I twist,

Destroying the simplicity as an unworthy flower,

Falling apart in shreds and still looking at the rose

Crying in silence in the darkest hour

Not wanting to be who I am

Not caring for what would happen to me,

I have destroyed the very thing I didn't want to become,

I have destroyed the life of a young tortured seed.