Wild Bloom

Gently weed me out
From your expanse of riotous blooms.
For, I refuse to sing
In sync with your spring.
I m a wild one
Happy with the way I am.

I shall not wither
At the first sign of fall;
I shall not wilt,
At the first touch of sun.

You may fancy the English rose,
Long stemmed and dew kissed.
In your exotic bunch of lovely blooms
I am sure I shall not be missed.

But I shall stay loyal,
To the soil that holds me!
‘cos no one will pick the stray
That tells no story!

You don’t need my hues
So don’t stop by me
I will sing my own merry song
Despite the fall that comes along.