A wildflower painting,
Hung up on the wall,
No room to let it feel the sun,
Or grow up big and tall.

The colors still boasted brightly,
Of heavenly blue and pink,
But all that time on the wall gave the wildflower time to think.

About why it wasn't like the other flowers,
The ones outside in the heat,
The ones with chances to see the world and grace new people's feet.

About why the rain always hit the petals, so delicate and sweet,
Of the wildflowers outside that she never got to meet.

A wildflower painting hung up on the wall,
Turned out to not be such a wildflower at all.