Sometimes I feel like dirt without any worth
There's been so much hurt it's like a curse
Not worthy, not valued even by myself.
Then I procured a gardeners help.
The gardener disclosed that the answer was before my nose.
Though I am dirt with effort ploughed.
It's the dirt that allows the flowers to grow up to the clouds.
So, from the dirt I will cultivate.
And from the dirt create something great.
For life is nothing without dirt the soil.
So, through it all I will toil.
And labour to transform this lowly state.
Into a garden just you wait.
So, if you too feel like dirt with no value
The garden is happy to have you.