Stubborn, picking ourselves up by our bootstraps, and taking the cedar bushes with the Oak, I guess you could say.
to coax me in to such a trap
no, I won’t go
who’ll take me back?
a house of glass, with no four seasons
I sit outside, with all my reasons
frost nipping leaves
turing them to brown
no fortress from the cold I’ve found
temperature control’s just not my style
pride will keep me warm a while
braving all the winter’s frost
though bare I seem, not all is lost
stubborn, but hardy, they all grow back
..
..
Cannas survive rugged terrain,
so will I, until spring remain
paigesykes 