They said try harder, keep your head down
But never showed me where the light was
Hands were tied before the race began
Still they asked why I didn’t run fast enough
Born into cracks, breathing dust
Roots too deep for shallow trust
I didn’t break ‘cause I was weak
I broke where I was never meant to breathe
Don’t tell me I didn’t fight
When the ground was dead on sight
You can’t grow a fire
In a room without a spark
I was planted in concrete
Buried alive, then blamed for the scar
You call it failure, I call it survival
You can’t grow a rose in the dark
I was planted in concrete
No water, no sun, just weight on my back
You curse the seed
When the soil never gave it a chance
Family names, rules in stone
“Be grateful” for a broken home
They fed me guilt instead of hope
Then wondered why I choked
Every door was half-way closed
Every dream too loud to hold
I learned to bleed in silence
While they counted my mistakes
You judge the shape I took
But never read the book
You can’t raise a life
On blame and broken ground
I was planted in concrete
Buried alive, then blamed for the scar
You call it failure, I call it survival
You can’t grow a rose in the dark
I was planted in concrete
No water, no sun, just weight on my back
You curse the seed
When the soil never gave it a chance
Maybe I’m bent
Maybe I’m scarred
But I’m not wrong
For being what you are
You paved the ground
Then asked me to bloom
Don’t preach about hope
In a system built like a tomb
I didn’t fail
I was designed to lose
I was planted in concrete
Still I learned how to breathe
Through the cracks you ignored
I found something in me
Call me broken, call me weak
Say I never tried hard enough
But remember this
Concrete breaks…
When the roots grow strong enough
You blame the seed
I blame the ground