If I were a daisy
Or a buttercup so gay,
Children'd hold me under their chin
And laugh the day away.
They'd pick me for their posies,
Pluck my petals in their games,
Give me to their mothers
Adored, alive, acclaimed.
If I were a rose
I could give myself to you,
A classic symbol of love,
Love so fair and true.
Each 14th of February
Blood red or soft pink hues,
I'd be given to the one I love
So love I would not lose.
If I were cherry blossom
I'd float off in the breeze,
Confetti for the newly weds
As they say their vows in spring.
For spring is the ringtime
When birds do sing-a-ling
And my velvet, graceful kisses
Would call out all these things.
If I were a poppy
I'd serve my country well,
I'd solemnly remind them
Of all the men who fell.
Each November I would shine
Like a ruby, crimson gem,
Chosen from Flanders
To serve our brave countrymen.
Alas, I am a thistle
None of the above,
Not worthy of a posy,
Of newly weds, of love.
I'm only good for hedgerows,
To scare you all away
With sharp teeth, sharp nails, just sharpness
So that no-one wants to play.
No-one wants to pick me,
No-one calls my name,
No-one stops to admire
Or include me in their games,
I just grow tall and prickly,
Harsh and rough and mean.
If only I could be a daffodil,
Well, a bloom can dream.
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