Rebel Flower

Do you ever stop to wonder, do you ever stop to ask,

how the daisy grew out of the cracks?

We look in admiration, to see beauty so clear.

Yet, the mirical of it all seems to disapear.

Forever we are going, going non-stop,

only glimpsing what should be caught.

If only we could dampen our quick pace,

we might understand that beauty cannot be seen in such haste.

The flower is praised for looking so fine,

yet, what I see, is something that defies time.

Her power lies in standing tall despite the stampede of boots.

She is brave for just exsisting, she is a rebel because she made her own roots.

Yet, as the sun sets and society marches,

she can’t help but to feel the darkness.

It becomes evident that growing through the cracks may be beautiful

to the ones that just pass by,

but it is lonely to be the only one that survived.