All the little flowers that grow in the meadow
HoneyRose S.
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When I was young at recess, we would pick the yellow flowers from on the sides of the swing sets. My peers and I gave these flowers several purposes like creating the bouquet for imaginary weddings, or the crowns for playing princess. However, one day, when I was in about 4th grade, my friend explained to me that these little yellow dandelion flowers were actually weeds. She began going around and picking them because they were "harmful to the grass". Soon there were no more of the pretty flowers littered around the playground, and I was devastated. A mystical part of my childhood had thus been killed. Recently, I began thinking about those flowers, and the changed perspective my friend provided me with. I have always loved flowers, they remind me of the indescribable beauty that creation has to offer. Flowers provide me with the delicate and cheerful moments, that riddle the nostalgia of my childhood. The loss of these flowers forced me into the reality of growing up, gaining knowledge, and losing ignorance with my innocence. Yet still I remember those little yellow dandelions, and even though they were also weeds, they provided soft, and sweet moments in my youth. I have a fondness of them, because they represent how I was able to learn the beauty of the smallest things. Later in my life I learned that those little yellow flowers don't actually hurt the grass, in fact they can even help it, and through the flowers, and the grass, and all the other little organisms, I find memories of freedom, full hearts, and a content mind.
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It allows me to unlock the most delicate, and deep parts of myself. Through writing poetry, I learn who I am as a person through the story of my words. To create, I believe is to display who you are in the most vulnerable way, which is giving others an insight into the truths your mind holds.
