My childhood is like a flower.

Many people will compare their lives with something so fair.

But my life has power,

power to be freed from awful hate. . . and my own greed.

I started as a sprout,

as we all do and sometimes that might make us feel a bit blue.

I also had serious dought.

I thought that I was worth nothing. . .but I still felt something.

I felt my buzzing friends.

The ones that come by and just say hi,

but everyone blends.

Blends into the croud of color so loud

as I grew

I still felt small and couldn´t stand tall.

That´s how I knew

knew that I wasn´t puny but I was cooky.

I was me

I would be fun and go up to people and run.

Oh, it was meant to be.

I found myself to be the one to help yourself.

I was the flower.

The one with the diffrent color that would hollar

to show I had power

but not for me

I would forget who I was and focus on my friends that buzz

and help others see. . .

see the blue sky and not focus on what I do before we die.

I BLOSSOMED

we all did that season. . . and for some reason

I like to make people feal awsome.

My roots now hold the ground for my new friends that I have found

I now wait to find someone. . . 

someone who I can love and was a gift from above

I wil never be done

Never done with them in my vines and they won´t cross lines,

But I am still looking

looking, but until then I will grow my mind and I will like what I find

and one thing I won´t be overlooking

Is my heart for it will never tear me apart

from my roots that hold me down

to my life. . .my life

but sometimes. I still frown