I'm the kind of flower
that grows out of concrete,
but with one look,
I appear just like a ****.

I've got a reinforced stem
and a will to burst through the cracks;
I don't wilt without water,
and I refuse to cut back.

I grow in adversity,
under the shade, in the dust,
in the hard rock pressing against
my roots, when it's rough;

but I'm not some simple dandelion
waiting for grubby hands to rip from the dirt,
I'm a flower, not a ****,
I cannot be deterred.