My life was like a bench.
I was built with love and care.
Recycled from my parents love.
But ended up out in the cold.
To face the world by myself,
and to have people sit and take advantage of my innocence.
My life is like a baker's loaf.
I started out a clump of dough,
molded by my parents hands.
And baked in the fires of time.
My life will be like a flag.
Built from scraps;
sewn by my parents love.
Hoisted to fly above all you care to look up.
This is the story of my life.
Who I was and what I will become.
My life was like a bench.
My life is like a baker's loaf.
And I will become a flag.
