This is still a work in progess, so as edits are made I’ll be updating it. I thought I’d go ahead and share it though.
I am a weed But I want to be a tree I look for the sun, Longing for its warmth, Yet I struggle to feel it on my skin Too cold from the shadows created within. Unquenchable thirst, Desperate to taste something pure, But there will never be enough To help me grow, I'm sure. So fragile and frail, Easy to pick at or pluck. Yet in this muddy bed I feel completely stuck. My arms can't stretch, They're so little and weak. My voice so tiny, Why bother to speak? I long to sway, To be set free, But I'm just a weed Wishing to be a tree. ©S.T. '18