my words come out as dandelions.
golden wisps of stardust and sunlight and wild
i speak, carried by my breath,
do not listen when others tell me to stop.
i suppose that if this is true
then i am a weed
then i am not good.
but people have tried to make me something else before
and i refuse to be killed.
i refuse to die
not to them.
i spread my roots and i
f l y
golden wisps of stardust and sunlight and wild
i speak, carried by my breath,
do not listen when others tell me to stop.
i suppose that if this is true
then i am a weed
then i am not good.
but people have tried to make me something else before
and i refuse to be killed.
i refuse to die
not to them.
i spread my roots and i
f l y
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