I don't appreciate being laughed at, and I know I shouldn't care what others think of me. I really try to be my own person, because that's what the world tells you to do. if I could I would keep myself up when I fall down, but you see I never learned how to stand after a beating. It's not just the physical form of pain I endure, my mental institute is rather hacked. I could be alive someday, but for now i'm no one, and if i'm no one i need to prove to the world I exist. There's just one problem, life as a weed is harder than it sounds. My breaths are small and my steps are faint, my name is my weakness. We may never understand what strives the human race for such satisfaction, but Thistle is all anyone ever talks about anymore, Thistle is the shy cowardly nonsense that needs to be destroyed, thistle is a weak suffering plant with no capability of protection, a prickly nothing that makes the flowers stand out. I wish I was a flower, but my name is Thistle, and I planned to make them see how I could shine.
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Thistle and Thorn
RomanceThe thistle weed normally starts as a small independent plant, if people let it be it can then grow into its own bush. A large prickly bush, a rather ugly and diminishing plant as its prickly pokes are shuttering to the skin, it is one of nature's m...
