Dandelion

As I walk across a field, I peer down, I see one little dandelion, But this flower is like no other, It has a golden mane, And is filled with pride, The dandelion rules the field, Its majesty radiates, The flower not picked, It lives on, as the king, Silence! Listen as the wind blows, Here it's mighty roar, Lost in the breeze, Nevermore a mere weed, But a glorious lion. Leave! The dandelion commands respect, Resting in the grassy jungle. I saw more in that dandelion, than I have in many men, I walk away from the lion, feeling like a mouse.