Summer Child

🎶~Oh summer child, you don't have to act like all you feel is mild~🎵 Like a flower in the sun, never talking, never walking, never needing. Quiet and pretty, yet often considered a weed in someone's lawn. Always praised for its achievements, spreading its bud. A simple flower it is, envying the others who are showered with care. Slowly, it wilts, but no one cares. Scars from the mower and garden scissors mark its stem. Yet it still turns to the sun in quiet strength. No one knows when flower's stem would snap. No one cares when the weed finally dies. Only when they can no longer admire the quiet beauty it brought, then they will see. Then they will regret ever not caring for the little flower. It is no longer strong. It had wilted in the winter before it saw the summer sun. Forever will its roots forget the taste of warmth.