Risen up from the earth,
Two offspring of nature stood,
In a field of emerald,
The flower and the weed.

The flower,
Coated in sunlight, stood.
Brilliantly displaying shades of spring,
And filling the air of its sweet aroma.

The weed,
Oft overlooked, stood.
Simply soaking in the spring air,
And earnestly sprouting upwards.

A child,
Full of joy and laughter,
Plucked up the beautiful flower,
And ran back to her mother, trampling the weed.

The flower,
Now to be admired,
Was placed in a beautiful vase,
And neglected, wilted down and died.

The weed,
Forgotten in the field,
Struggled mightily to rise but,
Clamored back up towards the sun, funny it seems.