What kind of flower are you?
A tulip, a rose, maybe even a daisy.
I'm the kind that is soaked in a spring shower,
But still stands strong and beautiful until it's over.
The kind that lives in the country,
But no one can tell.
The sweet smell of nature,
But everyone only smells the hairspray.
So why do they take me for what I'm not?
Because I have been caught up in the wrong crowd,
But the crowd that consists of real friends.
People label us as the preps,
but they don't know what kind of flower I am.
I'm like that wild card in a deck of 52,
The one that everyone wants but never gets.
I am the wildflower.