Find me at the corner of desperation and hopeless beginnings. digging my feet deep into the pavement of a dirt road slowly crumbling beneath me.
An unwavering, craving drips down my leaves and moistens parts of a flower bud just begging to bloom.
Bees fly around me as I hold my roots strong, firm, with their honey dripping down my stems. Yet my flower does not bloom. Some whisper into my leaves saying a weed amongst roses will never amount to anything. Yet I get stained by their pollen, daily and they fly off give their beloved roses not an ounce.
I could reply, I could shrivel up and darken, wait for someone to cut my roots, but no. I am faithful, I am resilient, and I will dig deeper. Waiting. Patiently.
One day a hornet will grace me with its presence, clear the clutter of unworthy pollen and strike enough venom in my veins to keep the bees away.
I'll be the dandelion colored in pigments the masses never knew existed.
And when I blossom its his venom ill be praying for over pollen any day. Dare a bee approaches a hornet's flower may they be stuck the potent smell of his mark on me.