a daisy on the side of the road

dust blowing in my face

trying to move but my roots keep me grounded

is there purpose,

what is identity,

what sets ME apart form the others?

flowers dont move;

but they can spread their roots

sprinkle their seeds

and show their beauty

am i beautiful?

all i know is i am me

the only daisy with hair like mine

the only flower who thinks like me.

some hate their past

but me i love my roots

 they formed me. molded me

and your past does not define you

it does not carve out your future

or lock you up in a cell of regret

it challenges you to question the norm-

decide what you want to be.. or not to be

and in that there is freedom

just a daisy on the side of the road

but not just a daisy, i am me

and i am free