I was born on cracked, broken roads
Left to wander downstream, only to
Become washed away
By tumultuous river currents

I landed in a hazardous wasteland
Overflowing with garbage
That people left behind,
Deliberately disposed.

I drifted through a desert of emptiness
Riding on a dry, hot wind
I whirled the tumbling weeds
Along the cracks of the dusty floor

I frosted the dormant branches
Of the Northern trees
My icy breath casting
A snowy blanket upon the foggy atmosphere

I melted the icicles
Suspended, awaiting an inevitable fall
My fingers forcibly peeling open
Sleeping flower petals

I am so bent so torn so dysfunctional
I cannot be understood by others
Let alone myself
I mean…I…am lost
Like a child without its mother…