The seeds of my emotions are planted in the ground.
Most are buried too deep, where they're never cared for.
Some are too close to the surface, where they're overlooked.
The beautiful happy seeds bloom, but are quickly plucked by those who think I don't need it.
The ugly sad flowers wilt, the only plants in the garden of me that you will find.
The flowers of terrible memories have deeper and deeper roots, making them harder to remove.
I don't think I'm getting enough sunlight.
I don't think I'm getting enough water.
I don't think I'm getting enough nutrients.
I'm withering away.
YOU ARE READING
Dandelions are Flowers
PoetryWhen you hear, "weed" you can't help but think of all of the bad things. But when you hear, "flower" you think of all of the good things. Why should dandelions be full of the bad, when they can be full of the good?
