I am who you made, your Frankenstein,
the consequence if your actions.
Looking at us now, I wish you’d treat me with the same enthusiasm with which I was made.
I’m like as a scarecrow,gracing your field of regret,
figurative… but literally before you each day.
I didn’t ask to be made..remember that.
So maybe the least you could do for me is to make my life mean more than the labels…
and more than being the thing everyone points fingers at and whispers.
I wish you’d wear me proudly on the lapel of your coat,
close to the first home I had in your heart
you see, now that I’m here…I think I should be worth all the sweat and tears