the grass grazes her feet

as she picks dandelions

as if they were roses.

she felt as if

she understood them—

under appreciated

and brushed off the shoulder

because a silly, old weed

doesn't belong

in the beautiful rose garden.

weeds are just

useless and ugly little things,

made to be picked

and thrown away.

yet there's always that one person

who admires the weeds

as they do roses.

and she treasures them

because she knows what it's like

to be the useless weed

in a budding rose garden.