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Poem

sitting there, the flower incased amung weeds,
will she ever see another flower when she's surrounded by these?
blocking her world, blocking her view,
smothering her beauty that's supposed to shine through,
until one day the gardener came, and pulled out those weeds,
she felt the wind gust through her tiny soul, for now she could finally see,
a small ray of light but with just enough view,
as she leaned in towards the sun, she felt her spirit grew,
just enough hope to be able to see,
to grow stronger and taller, to know she was free,
and as she poked her head out, the gardener could see,
to pull the rest out, so that she could breathe,
the space that she needed in her field was anew,
and with time and in season her new heart grew,
her essence spread wide as the wind carried her seed,
to replant and replenish for more beauty to be seen

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