Flowers feel

Just a weed

          The whispers spread through the wind ,as they ruffle my petals. My petals that will soon change and fly away out of this horrid place.

      This place that reminds me that I will never be an actual flower like the others around me.

      I've been told by the bees that I am nothing but a sour weed. They only come to me as a last resort when they have nobody else willing to let them pollinate.

     My mother dandelion had told me that I am just as good as the real flowers.She said that I shouldn't be worried about such silly things,but how could she ever expect me not to worry?

     I wanted to be a real flower.
     To bloom.
     To be important and not just convenient
     To feel like i belong among the others.
    
    
      Unfortunately I'm just a weed.

   In my last moments before the wind carries me to where i belong, I am proud. Proud to be a weed that got to live among flowers and watch them grow.

   I grew myself but not like a flower.I grew like a weed.A weed that had a purpose just one that was different from the flowers and bees.