I wish I was a flower blowing in a summer breeze,
I wish I could sway to and fro, feeding all the bees.
I wish I would be looked upon with love and adoration,
Beautiful as a rose, bright as a carnation.
Instead I am but glanced upon, then at once forgotten.
For I am not a precious bud, I'm much less silk than cotton.
So yes I do wish that I looked so elegant and splendid,
But the beauty of a flower cannot ever be contended.
A human being cannot sway, pushed only by the air,
A human being instead can feel that wind whip through their hair.
For I am not a flower, I cannot ever be,
But I am something even greater: I, my dear, am me.
-c.h.f
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