III

He is the salt of the earth.
A weed growing in the garden of Eden,
or so they said.

You were uprooted from warm soil
and tossed into a cul-de-sac of discrimination
and hate.

You were not a weed but a rose,
just trying to bloom in the sunlight
instead you were trampled and plucked
like a dandelion.

I feel nothing in my heart but pity...
I pity what the world has done to you
leaving you jaded and reliant on other weeds hated by the world.

But you have always been there for me;
a close friend and confidant,
someone willing to reach into the dark
and comfort those
despite being equally as pained yourself.

You are resilience,
a pure ivory tower that is loved
chips, scratches, breaks
and all.

A melody known only to those,
who are willing enough to listen.

-Lysa