CONCRETE ROSE

& she said,

"If you were a flower, that grew amongst a bunch of roses, I'd pick you. Out of all the roses that grew, you grew through the unfiltered mud & the small crack in the concrete. Everyone else wanted something that was able to grow quickly to show off, to then question why their roses) would fall apart, & wonder how something that looked so beautiful never lasted.

No one picked you because you were small, your home was pavement, not well nourished & they couldn't see you. They walked past you, thinking you weren't capable of growing, or even becoming something beautiful, something worthy & meaningful. Sometimes, some would stop walking to speak to you, give you pure oxygen & at the time you never understood why they would stop, praise & feed you their uplifting words just to walk away. You didn't realize that those that stopped only to give you oxygen, didn't pick you because those are the ones that saw your potential, they wanted you to see that you could grow.

No one picked you because you weren't enough, at least that's what they thought, & if/when they did pick you, it was always while you were in the process of growing. Small with no thorns to stop them from pulling you. You got so used to being small, so they portrayed you to be weak. You were easy to be ripped out the ground & tugged on, fun to kick & play with, broken down. Staying small for them to use you, pick at you for their benefit, wondering if they were loved or not.

You stayed small because from time to time someone did stop walking to pick you, even if it was for them to pull your petals one by one, this was the only time you got picked. You thought it was the only love you would ever know, not noticing you were being picked for the wrong reasons. Weakening yourself, not realizing you had true potential to be more.

However though you were weakened, it did not entirely make you weak. Unlike you, the other roses had a nicer foundation that others wanted to tend too & you grew from your own strength, tough as the concrete you called home & from the rain that poured down so hard on you, it hurt enough to break down your petals & over flood your roots, but that makes you stronger. Because every-time you got stepped on, pulled, & teased, there you were growing again, now with more & many more thorns, to protect your growth, & taking your time to blossom so that you could be more well built than before, proving to them that you do have potential to be.

No one chose you because you took your time to bloom. But now you're roots are strong, your stem is sturdy, & tall.

Your petals are brighter & firm, you now stand out from the others. They never understood how you became such. They' 11 never understand how you kept standing & growing through the toughest storms, the sticks & stones. You took your time to bloom. Concrete flower, you are worth more than all the roses combined together in a large room. I'd pick you.

You should pick you too".