A rose who rose above the rest
Not proud, nor made to detest
High in the sky, she goes up
To the sun like a tulip or buttercup
And I, so distant, built to be resilient
Shrouded by those with murderous intent
I among the weeds, bound by my deeds
But a thought of her had me feel as freed
And then did wend to me a friend
The kind whom to my wounds did tend
Saying, those with thorns tend to mourn
She stands above it all, not fearing the norms

Crystal tears,
Make up a diamond sea,
Where on the golden shores,
Glass roses grow.

But I picked the green weeds instead.

Powdered concrete broken down,
Rocks show on the barren ground.
Tiny particles of dust and sand,
The dirt is rich in this poor land.
But you see a **** poke from a crack—
That's just a sign of beauty, new growth pushing concrete back.
The **** bares a sight of simple charm,
The sweetest daisy, growing strong, green leaves for arms.
The beauty this daisy possesses shows such grace;
It shines upon her yellow florets, her face.
What beauty comes from something walked on,
Something that's kicked and never looked upon!
This beautiful daisy, not only a new birth from the ground,
Shows signs of a new beginning and joy all around.

seeds fluff the air
agents of a nuisance **** ;
                              'the city' warns

faded ladybirds thrive
aggressors from a foreign land ;
                               'the city' warns

I am pulling weeds from the garden and I want to scream "there is nothing wrong with you there is nothing wrong with you there is nothing wrong you"
I am replacing you with something beautiful and hard to maintain because I value appearances more than growth
There is nothing wrong with dandelions i swear, please do not develop a complex, I just cannot love you unless someone else does
My father spent years weeding me and trust me it gets easier
it hurts less if you learn to hate yourself the same way
There is nothing wrong with you I just have to do this he is coming over later and he might remember he doesn't love me if he sees you here
There is nothing wrong with you but I will **** you still
Like my father
Commended for everything I grow in the wake of what I ****
There is nothing wrong with you I scream but I will throw you away and you will wonder what is wrong with you anyway
He told me I have room to grow before hugging me goodbye
There is nothing wrong with you he said
I just don't want you here

I pluck the weeds out of my head every season,
All the bad, the negative thoughts, the unhealthy habits,
so the flowers have room to grow.
Until the next season,
when the weeds regrow and I must pluck them again.
I grab the base, pulling up the roots,
Without roots, they won’t grow back.
They do.