Garden of Roses
I'm just a lily in a garden of roses;
I'm a misfit, misshapen, a mistake of a seed-
But a lily is all I can be.
If you paid visit each hour
and each time picked a flower
The last one that you'd pick would be me.
You might stop and wonder
Where the wind took its plunder
and carried me far from my home;
And with your head tilted
Pick a rose that's half wilted
And leave me here all alone.
You think that I chose this,
To be stuck with the roses?
Eternally nature's next best?
Or maybe I'm third to a daffodil bud,
Or fourth to a sunflower's zest.
I'm just a lily in a garden of roses. .
Being passed by those strolling along
But no matter how badly
I just want to be picked
I know that I'll never belong.
Copyright © Dana Smith | Year Posted 2014
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