out of a gardena garden, a garden filled with rows

of assorted roses, a dandelion grows.

pricked and looked down apon, the dandelion hides,

waiting with patience for someone to find

the importance of it, the reason why its there.

the dandelion knows she is special and rare;

for it has a cure to a wide spread infection

that it has seen for some time, in every direction.

but humbly it grows, with no where to go

hoping and waiting, for some one who will know

the secret of the weed, and why it glows.

"i'ld rather be a weed, than a vain garden rose."

 

dear readers, i implore you, to read inbetween the lines

the life we live in now will try to take what makes you devine.

convinced and lied, people have already changed

there looks, there manner, to the point of being deranged.

plastic surgery, eating disorders, loosing there inner self,

cocaine, meth, cutts and bruises, destroying there inner health.

theres a war at hand, open your eyes and see.

that love is being attacked, the true love that sets you free.

the love that says "i love you, for you, for who your are.

no need to change, in my eyes, you're already a shooting star"

theres a war at hand, open your eyes and see.

that the love is already inside you, let it out and be free.