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Red Wildflower

A poem

By Ashley YoungPublished 10 months ago 1 min read

Driving down the road,

Walking down the street,

I see you standing there,

Sticking out

Among the grass, concrete

And other weeds,

At least that's what they call you

Just a weed, unnamed,

And in the way

Because you don't belong in the garden,

Or in a vase on someone's table

Ripped from your home as a token,

Or trophy.

You stand tall under the sun

No matter what blade cuts you,

You always grow back.

Feral, stubborn,

I pass you by with admiration,

And not without a little empathy.

And I say stand tall,

From one weed to another

nature poetry

About the Creator

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