In quiet fields, I stand where winds have blown,
My petals scattered, seeds once brightly sown.
The world has tried to tear away my core,
Still, I root to live this life I abhor.

The sky is heavy, clouds a pressing weight,
I’ve stood in shadows, weathered storms of fate.
And though I bend, my roots remain below,
To find the strength that others seldom show.

Each gust has taken more than I could keep,
My dreams, like seeds, were carried while I sleep.
But still, I bloom, though weary in the light,
For even fragile blooms can hold their fight.

The years have left me cracks I cannot mend,
But in each scar, a lesson to defend.
I’ve learned to face the wind, though I may fall,
And fly again, even without control.

In every fall, I’ve found a quiet grace,
The kind that only time can now embrace.
For every step that took away my past,
I’ve grown in ways I never thought would last.

A dandelion, weathered by the years,
I wear my scars, but let go of my fears.
Though bent, I stand, a fragile bloom in air,
A flower rooted deep in quiet care.

On days like these, I pause and look within,
To measure all the distance I have been.
The seasons turn, and I have felt their mark,
Yet here I bloom, a flower in the dark.

In cracks I find the strength to greet the day—
The roots I’ve grown, no wind can pull away.
No light ahead, though I can clearly see,
That even in the dark, I’ll still be me.

I have struggled so long, but I have thrived,
Now that acceptance keeps my will alive.
And though the world may see me worn and torn,
I'm THEJHONDELION who walked through thorns.