Be a wildflower amongst the red plastic roses that bloom only for beauty.

Grow along the highways and dirt roads, and be a sign of life amongst the concrete.

Sprout imperfections and scars with each petal you bloom, and don’t ever apologize for just being you.

Be a wildflower, one that comes from nothing and grows into something.

Sprout from the earth and from the rain that pounds on you in July, and rise to be someone you are proud of.

Be a wildflower that small children can make wishes on.

Allow yourself to roam free, letting the October wind guide you to new homes.

Fall in love with the summer heat and with the icy Decembers that turn water into snow.

Write your story in every heart that you meet, and treasure the moments that take your breath away.

Plant kisses on the ones you fall for, but never let them cut you down.

Allow yourself to be free in who you want to be without the expectations of others.

Allow yourself to be your own kind of beautiful, ignoring the shouts from society that label you as imperfect.

Know that you are strong, in a world full of roses, know you are astoundingly bright.

Know that you are your own kind of beautiful, despite your mind telling you otherwise.

Allow yourself to be a wildflower, painting magic across every path you take.

And be a wildflower amongst all the others, who tell you that you won’t ever be good enough.

And always believe that you are enough.