There would also be other flowers: marigolds, pansies, tulips and such. They are planted , cared for and loved. They are allowed to be what they are, though admired less than their fancier cousins. They are the ordinary people, each special and individual.

There are weeds. They are the ugly ones, who live only to annoy others. They are those who have rejected society and been rejected by society.

There are cactus, the lonely people. Lonely, but beautiful. They produce the loveliest flowers from the smallest showers of attention.

I myself am none of these. I am a wildflower, and we are few and far between, often overlooked or mistaken for weeds. We are not greatly loved nor admired, we serve only those who seek us out, those who look deep inside, to see our inner beauty. We have not been tended and are not nourished by the topsoil. Our roots dig deep to the heart of humanity. We are not pruned or watered, yet we struggle to reach for the sun. This is where I belong. There are many of us struggling but few ever meet. Wildflowers are unique. No two are ever the same. One who looks close can see the special quality which separates one wildflower from the next.