Why are you so accepted as you are?
You are a ****, no?
Something that becomes a tyrant to the other plants around it.
Yet when you pop up in yards,
Kids come to pick you for their mother.
They smile at your beauty,
And make wishes when your petals are gone.

I will not lie,
I have also been fooled by your looks.
The bight sunny yellow,
And the small petals.
Why though?
People pick you for your looks,
Not for what you really are.
They pluck you from the earth,
And put you in water for the centerpiece
At the dinner table.
They don't do it to keep you from destroying the other plants around it.
To keep you from hurting things.

Society... is funny, huh?
Only ever caring about the beauty of something, instead if what lies beneath it.