Begone Confused Flower

Weeds grow happily

unaware that they are lowly,

While posh flowers in their masses

Bow their heads appearing holy.



My eyes just see beauty

They never seem to care,

If the beauty comes from weed or flower

The pleasure is still there.



The flowers in the wild

somehow don`t have the same appeal

As those we have to care for

To place upon our window sill.



Now, I`m guessing but I feel

A dozen buttercups in a bunch

Won`t make the same Impact as roses,

Or is that just my hunch? .