I'm not sure,
Baby girl,
Four years old,
Your eyes have barley opened to this world,
What a beautiful place some might say,
Until you are pushed and shoved,
Told you'll never be loved,
Then there'll be a day,
When you believe theres no place to stay
Thats when the blade will be uncovered,
To reveal a trail of rose petals,
And if you follow them,
One day you will find a single stem,
Waiting for you to pick,
And tear the roots from the ground.
I know theres a place I might hide,
So I can teach the new about the old,
Pass the legends of yesterday,
Into the future of tomorrow.
