I, The Weedling

I, The Weedling prose poem

Photo by joshwept

Unconditional love is rare and hard to obtain.
It’s hard to be confident when I have only been trampled upon.
I can be bound in a vast field of flowers, but I am not the beautiful orchid or the rare lily.
I am often mistaken for the unwanted weedling.
The truth is, I don’t even know what I am to become.
For when it’s time to rise in full bloom, I am tossed aside for not being the flower sought after.
Will there ever be someone to find me, the little weedling, and say, “I will love you and cherish you all the days of my life, my lovely flower.”?
When will he come?
I long for the day when a man who has been searching long and hard to find the perfect flower sees me.
To look past the orchids and the lilies, the roses and the daffodils, to see me and choose me.
Unknowing if what I will become, and have him love me unconditionally.
To look past the normalcy of the surface and to be patient enough for the full bloom.
I, the weedling, wish this.

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Profile photo of Kathryn Sain

Kathryn Sain

Signup / Login to follow the poet.
I've been writing poetry ever since middle school, but I've never really thought about releasing my work to the public until coming to college. Currently, I am studying music as my major and English as my minor.
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

Be the First to Comment & Review poem!

Notify of

I Begin To Think

I Begin To Think short poem

Abdicating the shadows; totemic. I return back to dig up the buried- moon from the ruins of poetry. It benumbs. No response was coming from cajoling the black secrets- of time-cast. A storm was raging in a pack of emptiness.

I Know Me

I Know Me short poem

It was a freak accident of epithelium under anaesthesia. You place a window on to a hollow brain. The money makes the monkey out of you. A green light blocks the fish, your memory, to swim in black thoughts. The


I short poem

I left this world today I didn’t bother to pray I stormed the gates of heaven with delight I walked upon the pearly gold streets I was upset their was no one I knew I didn’t have a clue I

Once I Dare..

Once I Dare.. short poem

Once I dare… Once I dare to write my story, Memories crowded falling me weak… And words played hide and seek. Once I dare to lost in Love, brain went on compulsory leave… Mercifully, I survived of dying dive. Once

I Feel

I Feel long poem

I feel like I’m going to spin in circles. I feel like falling onto the grass and staring at the clouds. I feel like laughing and acting like a child. I feel like drinking alcohol and smoking some good stuff…