When did existing get so hard?
as if I'm already taking up too much space, i cant apologize enough.
this air i breathe isn't for me, what happened?
I used to stand so tall like a great oak tree,
my legs stood firmly planted in the ground, i was unapologetic for who i was,
my branches sprouted in all sorts of wacky ways, growing the most colorful flowers, and dropped the sweetest fruits...
but somewhere along the way my branches grew to spell I'm sorry, my flowers never grew back, and my fruit only enjoyed by those who stole it...
when did existing get so hard?
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