The Torment of the Seedling with Damaged Roots

Seedling: A Gardener's Plea For Forgiveness

Of all my creations, you are the one I wish I spared
Captivating flower, you were much more when you did not care
Your leaves range in color as the sun sears them to a crisp
But you were better off when you could not wish
Wish to be the same as your fellows in the meadow
Wish to change your color to fit a life that would not show
To fit a life filled with living in the shadow

Seedlings have no worries but to sprout
But once they grow no one worries about
The trauma the sun will inflict
The inevitable torture that will conflict
With a seedling's very being
The soul of the rising flower is fleeting
There is a fight to return
To a world that the flower does not have to worry about its own
The water drowns out its own tears
The competing flowers only ignite more fears

So, I wish I spared you, my precious flower
For you deserved more than to be overtaken by the pressure and devoured
A seedling may not attract as much attention
But surely this is not the future for which you had envisioned

Sticky Keys

"'Gon'  'an get now, little girl! I's don' tole ya 'bout messin wif this here instrument!"

Pa don't like nobody touchin' on them keys...
Well, I say they needs a touchin' on
Ever since my dear Mama died, all Pa wants to do is look at that damned piano!
Wipin' it down spotless 'til a blind man can see his reflection
Makin sure the sheet music is on the same page in the same position at the same time
Every. Single. Moment.

But I wanna make love with it!
Ooh, the thangs I could do with that Yamaha if Pa would give me a chance
I'd make those sticky keys wanna move again!
Gospel and jazz infusin' and groovin'
The couples swooning for a chance to hear
The satisfyin tunes of River Lee's girl
Just like Mama used to do
Yeah, I'se think thats a swell idea, indeed
Feedin' the people through music
Not no noise or notes
Nah, music gotta have soul
It's gotta have love
And I knows I got that...

But he says "NO!!!"
"You'se ain' yo mama! 'An you'se never gonna be!"
But he's just angry
No matta how hard he tries to hide it
I know Pa is just a sad old man
Mama dyin so soon...
Pa's poor heart ties
All tugged on 'an a ruined
I know 'cause I feel it too
Evera time I looks at them sticky keys...
 I remember. I remember everythang we don' lost wiffout that River Lee

Thats when my own anger gets ta festerin'
Blood boiling and meltin my insides to mush
Why'd Mama have ta leave us 'lone
We's two alone souls wif no home
The way ha voice jus fill up the room
Like a furance takin' way the cold

But now there's an ice storm right ousside my window knocking to come in
But I'se justa thinkin' 'bout those sticky keys
I thinks of the way they wouldna dare stick when Mama played 'em
They musta liked the way her fingas were permanently callus f'om ha cotton-pickin youth
Or maybe they's liked she would sang along with 'em as they tuned out them melodies
Somethin' about that River Lee...River Lee and them sticky damn keys

Mama was the flower Pa thought couldna neva died
Ha petals too pretty and ha stem too strong
Ha roots as sturdy as da Lord's word

But now here I'se am
My roots don' been snatched offa me like a band-aid
I ain' got no mama to show me the way
There's only so much Pa can do

I'se a seedling tryin to grow
My petals holdin on by a thread
Scared of the coldness with no gardena's protection

​Sometime, I'se a think it woulda been better if I was never planted

Creases and Cacophony

Ambition is the overthinker's misery
But it is her ultimate desire
Reaching forward in the meadows of dread for clarity
There are only more weeds and tangles that breed barren scarcity

What once was a seedling dangling by a thread
Is now a flower who the world wishes was dead
This flower comes from harmony displayed with the joy of matrimony
But before she could even sprout
The gardeners who watched her grow vanished without the shadow of a doubt

The flower's petals were creased and left broken in the sun
And now what is left is the ambition of her youth undone
The flower now sleeps in despair as she contemplates her life
Crumbled and stepped on since birth
At least now her heartbreak can replenish the earth

The self-deprecation of the overthinker will be the death of us all
Cacophonous symphonies disguised in delicate fabrics
Despite the overthinker's undeniable beauty
She can only see the self-detriment of her harbits

The flower once covered in purples and golds
Will now forever be a story never told
Now covered in black and red and sorrow
The flower that was once a seedling decides that there will be no tomorrow

One could argue that the flower's future had already been chosen
Her stems and leaves were already in a wretched condition
The gardener should have known herself from the look of the flower's shoot
To never plant a seedling that would grow with damaged roots