3. Ivy

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The birds are singing,
And the trees are listening.

The Ivy slithering through the iron gates,
Not knowing the rooting hates.

The Ivy around my heart is a cage,
I couldn't control my rage.

I was the Ivy that grew in stones,
Unknown of the hate thrown.

Now, there's a poison Ivy,
Growing around my heart,
A flair for a dramatic start.

I can be harmless,
I can be poisonous.

Banks on how you treat me,
Depends on how you mistreat me,
Grounds on how you sweet treat me.

                                                 -Moon

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