I walk a lost mile
Under the burning sun
I'm pale and white
Outcast and twenty one
I reach a garden
Of blooming roses red
In the middle, in Arden
Grows a middlemist's red
The roses pay no heed
To the camellia's gloom
They call her a weed
That treads their bloom
In a sea of red
She keeps her white stead
When I discerned
That we are kindred
And all I could see
Was a beauty celeste
That the roses were artsy
Because they were jealous
So I go home at peace
And leave behind my ordeal
For none of us is a disgrace
If we look past the shame wheel
