Wildflower

A tiny seed, buried in soil.

Thirsty for raindrops, hungry for sunlight.

Its stem growing taller, its roots digging deeper.

Blooming slightly every day,

only to wither,

and fade away.

“I’ll set you free”, the wind whispered.

And free she could have become.

If not for reality pulling her back into a slavish mass一smothered by distorted ideals and left to decay into some shallow character.

Until,

marching along desert fields, with much needed droplets falling onto her tousled locks, a sudden breeze stole the couple daisies out of her hand.

It’s when she watched them fly away, that realization came gushing一I am not rooted to this world of conformity.

And for the second time around, the wind had bailed her out of restraints.

Obsessed with redefining the concept of idealism,

her ways became those of an outcast…

Mocking the superficial,

trashing the mainstream,

dismissing any conventional matter,

questioning everything and everyone

on a daily basis.