As a sunflower, I often face misjudgment.

Passersby see us by the hundreds and think

“They’re oh so beautiful, but they’re all the same.”

This is not true.

Many have not seen what I have seen;

I have seen some flowers break in half, proving that they are not as strong as I.

I have seen others wither from thirst, proving that they are not as humble as I.

I have seen a few refuse to bear their resources, proving that they are not as giving as I.

I did not deserve to be planted here.

I deserve a spotlight,

But I will never ask for one.

I am not generic,

I am one of a kind.

I have plenty to give; for each of my seeds represents a piece of me.

The brightness of my petals can cheer up any room,

My refusal to wither proves my dependability.

Yet I sit among others of my kind,

Knowing that none of them are quite like me.

And I am content.

As a sunflower, I often face misjudgment.

None of which, is true.