The Daisy Flower

I’m the one that the winds enjoy torturing The one being crushed under roaming feet The only one feeling lonely during spring I’m the most eager one to unfold my pleat, And rise again: tall, bright and smiling… Pleated and crushed, but I keep moving on Because my soft petals refuse to surrender. I would be dead, and my soul would be gone, But my spirit never dies; strong but tender… Survival is not an age, it is not a number. It is a prize that must be earned and a token, For all the flowers would proudly remember The little Daisy who refused to remain broken. My spirit that never dies would live inside Every beating heart. As long as hope exists, Every flower will gain glory and pride… For every flower is a Daisy that resists. Standing tall in the greenness of the land, I shall be a legend that survives the ages… I shall always be the beginning and the end, The slave that shatters the slavery cages. I’m the one that the winds enjoy torturing The one being crushed under roaming feet The Daisy that begins and ends with spring The one that unfolds every single pleat…