the grass grazes her feet
as she picks dandelions
as if they were roses.
she felt as if
she understood them—
under appreciated
and brushed off the shoulder
because a silly, old weed
doesn't belong
in the beautiful rose garden.
weeds are just
useless and ugly little things,
made to be picked
and thrown away.
yet there's always that one person
who admires the weeds
as they do roses.
and she treasures them
because she knows what it's like
to be the useless weed
in a budding rose garden.