Behind layers of cement
We think we’re home.
I admire the strength
Of dandelions still grown.
For it was never designed
To push through toxic dirt.
And it has become so familiar
That it’s forgotten the earth.
It has forgotten the richness
And the soft warm ground.
No longer knows of the community
Of being able to grow all around.
Whilst I admire this single dandelion
For finding home in foreign spaces.
I wonder if he’d of chose that spot
If he hadn’t ran out of other places.