Reap What You Sow

Put a bag over my head
And call me dead
I live in a snail shell
I don't have a house

As meek as a mouse
I eat crumbs
And lick sticky-stains
Off counter-tops

In the fields I till my crops
You reap what you sow
And what I grow
Is disappointment

I water them with tears
And feed them my insecurities
I tend to my fields fervently

Tugging roots from the soil
They are like stone
I take them to the stove to boil
And eat my supper alone

In my snail shell of a home
I sit in my fields
To eat and grow sadness
A never-ending cycle