This is another entry for TheMysticalAwards challenges - This time it was poetry XD

I turn my head to the sun,

to bathe in the bright song.

You watch me with disgust,

you want me to turn into dust.

You reach to me, hold me,

I'm nothing but grime.

You call me a weed,

but I'm neat.

Beautiful just like

the rose you relight.

Thrown on the ground

piled up, you merely grunt.

The sun dried my life,

but my roots are riled.

I shall rise again,

to once again regain,

my place in this world.