A song I sing that would make no sense/As a song/Couldn't control the feelings inside/So a piece of paper I hoped would provide/ I write my words like a toddler walking/ Slowly, slowly stumbling/ Soon I gain speed and rhyme/ The world looks different in my eyes/ And now I can't look away/ Pain becomes beautiful/ Injustice is enlightened/ Happiness, exhilarating/ And myself,/ Arms open to the world/ Head back and unafraid,/ I am proud./ And my art dances before me/ /Now a flower is no longer so/ It is the bloom of all existence/ What is created after the storm;/ A signal of life/ To the many it sees,/ A source of life/ To the many who breathe/ Or/ A hidden message of the fruit it bears,/ Flowers are everywhere/ If you wear the right lens/ I planted a flower inside me with my pen/ Truly the world is poetry/ And now I understand/
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