I sit and dream of a wildflower,
That is grown in the darker.
When exposed to the light,
She felt like she wasn’t as bright.
Neither was she yellow nor her ground,
All she ever did was feel blue without a sound.
She always tried to step out of the crowd.
But she buried herself deeper into the ground.
All she ever did was make others happy,
But all they did was conclude her uncanny.
She went with them when they were alone,
But what she got back was feeling ignored.
With none to love nor to hug,
She fit herself into a mug.
I don’t have a place in the light she said,
I will eat myself in the dark instead.
All she ever did was beg for delight,
But agony hit her with all its might.
She walked in with a smile plastered,
Her mind disastered.
She slowly faded,
Believing no one cared.
But what she never knew —
They envied the beauty she bared.
When you see someone unique,
Don’t judge or despise.
Instead,
Learn to cherish and realize.
Wildflowers are beautiful in their own untamed way. They bloom without needing anyone's help, sprouting wherever the wind carries their seeds. Unlike the flowers that people carefully plant and nurture, wildflowers don’t rely on human hands to grow. They stand tall, even in the harshest places, simply because they know how to survive.
But sometimes, a wildflower is born in the darkest corners of the world—places full of sorrow and pain. It never asked to grow there, among the cracked earth and shadows. Yet it did. And despite everything, it bloomed.
When people found it, they decided it didn’t belong. They pulled it from its dark soil and planted it among the perfect, cultivated flowers. They expected it to change, to become like them—bright, flawless, and easy to admire. So, the wildflower tried. It reached for the sun, desperate to leave its dark past behind. But no matter how hard it tried, the others still whispered.
They mocked its twisted stem and imperfect petals. They treated it like an outcast, not realizing that its resilience was a kind of beauty they couldn’t understand. Deep down, they saw its strength and felt threatened. But instead of acknowledging that, they let their pride turn to cruelty.
And the wildflower? It wilted under the weight of their words. It started to believe it was worthless, that maybe it never should have bloomed in the first place.
I know how that feels because I’ve been that wildflower. I’ve been the one people ignored, belittled, and left to question my worth. But here’s what I’ve learned: Just because others can’t see your beauty doesn’t mean it isn’t there. Every scar, every moment of survival, is proof of strength.
No one deserves to feel like they’re not enough. So be kind. Don’t tear people down because they shine in a way you don’t understand. Don’t let your own insecurities turn into cruelty. And most importantly, don’t let anyone walk away believing they were a burden when they were really a gift.
Wildflowers are never worthless. And neither are you.
