What if you were a blade of grass
Amongst others just as tall
And though they found comfort in uniform
You never let go of that silly hope that something magic might happen
But magic is slow
Magic is small wins
Magic is progress invisible to others
So when you finally bloom
Know that those you used to resemble will grow green but with envy
Let them glare at your colorful petals and know that you didn’t just get lucky
Lucky are those who get to witness your magic