Hothouse Flower

Hothouse flower
Waterlogged
All worn down
By a salty fog

Silk born
Thin skin
Weak from the breeze
You don’t have
To earn anything

To survive
You don’t have to try
Gifts arrive
If you desire

Still you dream
Still you scream
Like a bird at dawn
It feels unfair
To be so square
While others have something
To fear and feel

Sallowed, useless
Nothing is at stake
So you cultivate your taste
Imagine a struggle
Copy your scene
Mannequin
In faux greenery

To survive
You don’t have to try
Gifts arrive
If you desire

Still you dream
Still you scrеam
Like a bird at dawn
It feels so dumb
To be so numb
While othеrs have something
To fear and feel

Oh to be mud born
Rise from the ashes
Telling the troubles you’ve seen
Hothouse flower
Cries from her window
Faking her own suffering