The Inner-Most Thoughts of a Dandelion

I am a dandelion and my world is a big meadow. I'm growing on a cliff-side, I like to live on the edge. Just blooming away, soaking up the sunlight beaming at me. Needing a purpose so I can be everything I was made to be. I was handcrafted, not a mistake. I was placed on this earth, on the edge of this cliff to show others that I'm not afraid of heights. To show all the people that ever put me down for being a weed, That I was made for a reason. Maybe to choke up plants, sure. But this weed has feelings too. The burrs on my stalk hold me down. These furry things, I don't know what to make of them. I seem to grow more and more and I can't get them off of me. I'm trying to grow higher and higher but they're holding me down from my potential. I see my fellow dandelions, they're naked and happy. Nothing holding them down. They keep telling me about this breeze. A strong wind to prick the burrs off their stalk. And then an idea comes to me. So now... I'm just waiting for a strong breeze to come pick me up and cast away all my fears and worries that I call dandelion seeds.