Being a wildflower is wonderful,

In almost every single way,

But not the lonely wilderness where planted,

Since all the garden flowers consider it astray.

 

They stay in neatly tended lots,

Prunned with clippers and spray,

But wouldn’t you rather grow freely,

Even if it is considered out of the way?

But perhaps that is why I am a wildflower,

Far away from the neat lawns and crowded spaces,

In all the wonderful,

And inconvenient places.

 

I’ll never look a pansy,

Or be as tall as a sunflower,

But then again I wonder if they have the determination,

And the willpower.