Dandelions

Dandelions. A whole spread of them. If I were a ladybug, wandering the patch of grass, I'd be trapped. Suffocated in a field of never-ending dandelions. But I am. I am the ladybug.

While I witnessed the rain pour against the wind shield of the car, showering the dandelions outside. I felt trapped.

By my complicated mind.
By my idealism.
For all that I have worked for-
The changes I'd thought to have sown in myself.

Words. Words. Words.
Empty. Empty. Words.
How pretentious of me.
For my words lack value.
The more I speak of it, the less sincere I'd become.
Words are arrogant. & my arrogance is translated between words.
There is no change if I keep speaking of it.

But the ladybug, it will find an end. It can fly. To escape. And liberate. Like the white florets of the dandelion blown by the wind. Perhaps, this too shall pass.