The flowers I once gave you were

But weeds infesting the ground

I mistook their colourful appearance

To mean true beauty, offering it up

To you as a token of my love

You accepted them thankfully,

Yet what they really were you did not tell me

How can it be that a daughter’s love can fail so unknowingly?

Whatever has been seeded since reminds me

Of the sickly weed I thrust into your hand…

I plucked earnestly and innocently from

Nature’s bed, yet all she gave me was

A dandelion, showing off its yellow head

All I have now are of memories of that time,

The weeds I took to be real flowers remain forever on my mind.