Dandelion

She was like a dandelion: beautiful, but dangerous. Everybody became like her, but nobody wanted her. She was plucked out of each house like a weed picked out of the garden. All because of a reputation? No, a label. Some beautiful plants are labeled "weeds" and some beautiful people are labeled "troubled". Was she? It's hard to say. She's perfect but broken inside. Nothing a little love couldn't fix but it was hard to love her. She was a bottle of soda that had been kicked around one too many times. So if she opens up to you she might just explode, and she knows it. So she keeps it all in, not daring to tell a soul. Maybe if she was less afraid to love she would be happier. I guess we'll never know: she was always much too afraid