I was a reddened flower

You say I’m now a tower

 

I’m looking for all of your stories

Throughout my own phases

 

You were the women who held me

Now I’m learning to see

 

I write tiny stories and hang them on your wall

You stare at them and hope that I won’t fall

 

I am made of a string of memories

That you have painted on me

 

You’ve brought me and two other people I love into this world

Now It’s my turn to be bold

 

I live in many houses

But yours is my main home

 

I remember the day I wanted to roam so

I begged you to make me a little brother