i’d like to think i’m made up of beautiful things

Sometimes I like to think that I come from the sky,

made up of all the stars that shine at night. Sometimes

I can almost convince myself that I am made of something beautiful.

But I come from the dirt in the ground, and sprouted from a single, unwanted weed.

That is all I am: an unwanted plant, competing and out numbered by the vibrant plants around it.

but I am no match.

-t.l.d