Someone once compared me to a rose
What a flower to be
Blooming only in the best conditions
With perfect tending
And tedious attentions
Beautiful, but thorny
Admirable, but painful to hold
Offering their beauty only
To those so fortunate
As to be in the garden
No
I'm not a rose
I'm the wildflower that
Offers beauty to all around it
Grows wherever it lands
Withstands the storm
And finds the sun