To a Dandelion

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Dandelion.
You started off as a
floating seed,
and finally found yourself
in a sidewalk crack,
unfortunately enough.
but neverthe less, you
grew
and
grew,
sharp spikes growing out of leaves
solely to protect you from
Dandelion Predators.
ha!
who would want to eat a flower?
rain seeps into your roots,
water poisoned with lonliness
that often tends to make you sick.
alas,
there is no medicine for that.
It took awhile for you to burst
through the sidewalk,
splitting concrete as you went.
And yet,
throughout the pain
and lack of soil,
you still continued on.
Then, when your young petals were treaded upon,
smudged with dirt from other's shoes,
I could tell you
died inside.
I know you wished for a lawn mower
to end your misery
and was disappointed when someone
told you,
"Dear,
No one mows the sidewalk."
As you aged, you lost your youthfulness
and became closed off to the world.
Was it depression, Dandelion?
But you bloomed again.
This time, into an elegant lady,
old enough for gray hair
yet young enough to give life.
Each storm cloud colored seed
flew off one day
as a taxi passed,
and each went their seperate ways.
Except for one,
that is.
Which floated in the taxi's
open window
and landed in my lap.
So later, when i passed a
grassy medium,
I let that seed out for a
better life.
In that green heaven,
you stopped below the
blades of emerald grass,
where the lady bugs
lie
and roots live.
And you thrived as your mother
could not.
But don't you forget,
Dandelion,
you only started off as a
floating seed.





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