Dandilion
You are like a dandelion;
Submerged by seeds of life,
But once all that was precious was gone,
You were nothing but a centre longing.
Remember how heavy I once was with colour,
My petals that were incapable of growing any duller.
The children that would pass by calling flower,
The rest calling weed, a label that wouldn't tower.
A sun which so eagerly would send its beams,
A life so innocent it seems.
My petals now scattering wishes to those around,
My dandelion clock grew larger but I am bound.
I am lighter, but i am less.
A new version of myself, is this for the very best?
A colour still so vivid but no longer primary,
Why must I be the aerie for these seeds.
Overcome with joy, the children return to do their deeds.
Bringing me to their mouth, to blow my exterior, leaving me bare.
My cypselae sawing through the air to restart the cycle else where.
Yet for me I'm dropped down, disregarded without a thought.
My dandilion clock- or so they call it, had reached its end.
A wish for each child that I would lend,
But nothing more for me in the end.
I stand still while children laugh, filled with glee.
My petals transformed, my colour drained.
I ached, my body that was strained-
Missing its purpose. Missing its petals and new beauty.
The wishes given away, in trade for happiness thats my duty.
My second form as a flower, repurposed I am.
But was this what I wanted or was i just being stolen from.
Copyright © Dana Bain | Year Posted 2026
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