A Seedling's Poor Cry

I'm a little seedling, born from nature.
Through thou's journey, I've been known as a stray.
Contradicting fails, there is no picture.
I need to change or else I'll break away.

Oh thou, mother nature, may please bless me.
They mock me, piercing my heart with sharp thorns.
They keep blabbering, till eternity.
How must they live, I don't know; I'm drawn.

Hard to underestimate their attack,
And the defences that thy has planted,
I do must be careful; for me they knack,
But thou takes everything for granted.

But, oh my, what is this; a surrender?
Oh, thy mother nature; my defender