Sunday, December 18, 2011


Born a weed
in arid soil,
I reach for the sun.

Impeded by concrete
and harsh weather,
I reach for the sun.

We are what we are
whether recognized or not.
A weed is truly a flower
whose beauty is unseen
by most.

I am a flower
reaching for the sun.
Blossoming when I can,
while seen as a weed.