She was beautiful. A dandelion, unappreciated, many unknowing of her secrets.
Her petals shined, glistened, sparkled, but all they were was ordinary.
People that should love and adore them stomped on them, and I didn't know how to help.
How could I?
Her stem - was soft, and visibly so, like a peach fuzz.
But make no mistake, she was a dandelion.
She was lovely, and I brought her gifts.
We loved each other.
I was happy.
She was happy, at least I hope.
We danced in the sun, laughing, loving.
I loved everything about her.
Sadly, however, one day she was ripped away from me.
I couldn't do anything.
Nothing I could do to stop it.
And, at the same time, I was gone.
I was home.
But I never returned.
And neither did she.
No choice was able.
But we both had to go.
Soon, I was in a new place.
Many plants, a few flowers, but none that glistened the way she did.
None that shined.
None that were as soft.
None that were as friendly.
I met another, who made me happy, but never let me see her bloom.
I saw just the outer shell of them, however all of me was there for them to view, to inspect.
They swayed with the wind quite easily.
Fluid.
Nothing fully sure about them.
And yet still, I loved them.
