Outcasts

You cast me out.

I’m broken seed;

More likely to become a weed.

And so you trod me underfoot;

Cast me to abandoned earth.

I forgive you

For not seeing what I could be.

When my time comes

I may grow more hesitantly

Than the blooms inside your garden

But I will grow.

When I break through the brittle ground,

On the path, you walked around,

I’ll fill that empty space with beauty.

You won't be able to ignore me.

Once you see what I've become,

I hope you remember

Next time you hold new seeds

That outcasts can become flowers too.