A month from now. I will grow up. Glow up. And you'll remember this rosebud that you left in the dust who you tried to pluck, for now I am grown up. My pith has gained in width. My stems are longer now, my branches have more thorns. My sepals are not run out. Although you tried to trample me and my soft blushed lips profane. I have gone and sprouted up. The remains and seeds left in the dust. You thought you could corrupt. But I have gone and grown up. Watch me cause I always glow up.
The Silent Singer 