I am a dandelion

I am a dandelion. I once was this beautiful golden flower and suddenly over night I turned into a fragile dull flower full of wishes yet to come true. I am a dandelion. The smallest blow could scatter all my broken pieces to places you’ll never see again, but who am I without those pieces? Nothing. I am a dandelion. I hold myself together through the worst winds and most hateful storms, but the littlest blow from someone who knows how to find me, I’d never be seen again. I am a dandelion. I look beautifully crafted and put together, but I’m holding on until my hands finally get tired and let go, parts of me already gone, never for me to see again, but for others to hold onto and remember. I am a dandelion. Even when I’m gone, parts of me will last for a millennia, the parts people choose to keep and spread. I am a dandelion