Some prefer a soft hand
And soothing words
Others respond to volume
And anger
To inspire a reply
My response to beckoning
Or of sharp demand
I see it as absurdity
For I am a weed
Refusing the doom
Of the pavement
And perhaps even stranger
I am unable to decide
Why being asked my thoughts
Lead me to desire escape
Is it a result of fear
I don't think so, but I don't know
No answers exist already wrought
And this world takes shape
With oceans made of tears
And the land forms of hope
And my imagination
Calls life into being
Without remorse
I will not sorrow
Daring not think out loud
I refuse all doubt
So get up now
Come with me
Celebrate life and let us shout
“Everything you can imagine is real.”
