Plunked into the pot with my perceptive care, I gave you a home, but you do not fair.
I toss about this and I toss about that, productive for life, making you grow nice and fat.
Not you, disgrace, for you have lost your place. Up! Up you must fill this vase.
I blame you for this natural crime, how have you not grown one single tine.
Why, it is your nature to bloom , to treat me unto your delight. Not you, I ,offered your ugly blight.
Never, this blame cannot lay securely in my grace, hang your head, and show me not your face.
Your life is but simple, nothing amazing, into the soil, not trouble, no toil.
I command you, bath me in your beauty; it is but your natural duty. I believe, I am the stronger, you the fool. I understand, I the Master you the tool.