Wallflower

I see and hear

the things they say

about you and me:

The kids who spat on me

and the men who pet me.

The women loved to tease

for the wallflower is nothing

but a beauty refusing

captivation in a vase

with our roots

entrenched

in whichever city

the wall was built;

Our bloodstreams connected

to the people who fought

each other and for us.

I see the sun comes up

every day I nod

not to the flag

but the stripes of

Red White Blue and Black.

My roots are my source

but my neck stretch

to take center stage.

blending in became

escapism

from giving in;

I can almost smell

the day my petals fall back

to the earth I couldn’t change

for my yellow cannot

please both sunshine

and the lemons

life gave me.