Dandelions Are Not Flowers

These misconceptions are rather lovely this time of year, 
and I am content to lay in these fields filled with your broken spirt. 
Your eyes pass over me, as if I am not even laying here, 
and I think its so painfully wonderful, 
that this happens everytime I find myself in this place. 
Every time, I say to much, reveal to much, 
and I am left to soak in my own scorn, 
cheeks hot from the embarassment. 
Allow me to introduce myself, 
I am the one person you will never expect,
the one person you will be able to pick out of any crowd, 
so misfited, so foreign. 

Shut up silent wind, 
shut up. 

I am quite aware of my fate, aware of this predestiny, 
so why must you remind me so mockingly?
These flowers are like fools gold,
the colour of a mid-day sun, 
standing tall in their glory, 
yet these flowers are nothing but weeds in the garden, 
taking up the life of the beautiful. 
Am I just a dandelion? Eating the life of the beautiful?
Dandelions are not flowers. 

Shut up silent wind, 
Shut up.