I stand here in the field alone;
I’m a dandelion
with no home.
The people never water me.
They say, “That’s no flower, just a weed.”
But underneath
the “just a weed,”
I am still a life that
came from a seed.
I am not that different
from a rose or a daisy,
But still people will
call me lazy.
America’s not where I’m supposed to be,
But people brought me here; I am not free.
You say I’m stupid,
you say I’m dumb,
You poison me,
so I feel numb.
I’m like a slave, no one cares.
I’m still a flower that’s everywhere.
If I were a rose, you’d
hold me tight,
Bring me home, show
me the light.
A rose has thorns,
I don’t understand.
A rose is hurtful when
held in a hand.
I have no thorns; I’m as
soft as can be,
But you still hurt, poison,
and step on me.
You brought me here
years ago,
On big ships filled with cargo.
If you hated me so much, then why
Did you take me away
so I could die?
I used to feel special; people used to care.
I was treated like other flowers, I was treated fair.
But in America, I’m sad, confused, and lonely.
All I ever wanted was someone to hold me,
But I guess I was wrong. I guess that’s not right.
Why hold a dandelion? A rose is a prettier sight.
Please remember that underneath the “just a weed”
I am still a flower…I still came from a seed.
Source: https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/came-from-a-seed
