She thinks that she is just a bud.
No one told, her
She has bloomed.
Vines stretch up
to touch her shoes.
Birds flutter
to sit on her shoulder.
She is
Barefoot
to be closer,
To the one thing she is sure of.
That earth,
The only thing beneath her feet.
Obscure.
She has hoped for something golden,
A rose among the thorns.
She has endured.
Birds no longer find her shoulder
Because
no one has told her,
How beautiful
A tarnished penny is.
