A weed in a bouquet of roses
Red roses so unique and exceptional
A weed so plain and superfluous
Plucked from its’ origins and placed in a superficial wrapping
Beauty as it may seem
Silenced is more like it
The plain flower surrounded by exceptionality
But all it wants is home
Fields of green
Blowing in the wind
Providing a smile to by passers
As it stays out of place
Praying for a gust of wind
Blowing it back into place
It does not belong here
Roses, scarlet beauties
Pricking the weed with their thorns
Giving up the weed decays
Yet still remains standing high
It will not bow its pedals and give in
It will not bend down to defeat
It will stay strong
A weed, so gallant and astonishing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem