Middle School

You could not say I was a wallflower. Flowers are fussed over, coddled and protected; but you could not simply change the ending of the word, creating some new word, like "wallweed". Weeds are shoved about, disdainfully discarded, mocked, abused, and I was neither that as much as I was not a flower. It is hard to make a metaphor saying I was the rain, or sun, or dirt, because those are appreciated by both weeds and flowers when they come, lamented when they appear late, or too little, or too much. Besides, I did nothing to help either flowers or weeds thrive and grow. I was merely me, doing my best to survive, to go on each day. Just me, as myself, alive alive alive.




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

ThanksGIVEaway

Come Take a Tour

Well, That Was Unexpected