Fair maiden, I doth confess
That virtue's shroud, I must undress
For age's rage and margins wide
Doth a life of pureness deride

Escaped the coffin, I am now
Shamed, a pawn in society's prow
Thrown to the flames, they seek to blame
And bury me, not for justice, but for fame

Yet like a rose, beset with thorns
I bear the marks of life's harsh scorn
Stained and blemished though I be
My visage, once a mess, is now set free

Once struck, now stuck, like stone in the ground
Treated like a rug, cast down and bound
Deserve I a hug or am I a thug?
Labels cast upon me, my soul they do tug

But still, I seek a place to stand
Where I may flourish and expand
Like a seedling that yearns for light
My spirit yearns for a chance to take flight.

- BobWayneWonders