I was a seed much like everyone else. 

Other seeds sprouted into lovely budding flowers that bloomed into perfection. 

But I, who was once a bud, shrivelled.

Shrivelled into a good for nothing 

Weed. 

The flowers in the garden playfully danced in the wind. 

Carefree, vibrant, filled with life. 

Happy. 

I continued to wilt as the wind blew at my brittle ends. 

Too careful, gray, filled with dread. 

Depression. 

But it was all a trick of the mind. 

A cruel, cruel trick of the mind. 

Life is filled with flowers. 

There are no weeds.