A burst of color,
Vivacious yellow,
An exquisite beauty,
This little fellow.
Beware its splendor,
From an outside look,
For deep within
Is a little crook.
It grasps the life
Of its friend,
Strangles, hurts,
Holds to the end.
When all of those
Around turn dry,
It is then the beauty
Sits on high.
They attack to satisfy
Their own needs,
Not caring of others
Hearts and deeds.
If they were gone,
Would life be strong?
Would it keep going
Feeling we belong?
What would life be
If there was no such thing
Could it be better
Without these weeds?
Jim Butler
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dandelions-7/
