Poetry | Villanelle

Where Wildflowers Grow

Escaping the artificial

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Some say the grass may look greener on the other side.
Through rose-colored glasses, it’s craved, envied, or even despised.
Yards with picket fences and neighborhoods with residential pride.

A sensible attraction found in clean lines and pesticides.
The measure of success, and yet, through mediocrity prized,
some say the grass may look greener on the other side.

It’s watered and cultivated by all this life can provide.
The representation of family, the American dream, civilized.
Yards with picket fences and neighborhoods with residential pride.

Stripped from the truth of its natural state, a false persona is glorified.
A quixotic expectation from which charlatans are characterized.
Still, some say the grass may look greener on the other side.

Outside the city limits is where all the stars and curious creatures reside.
A vast freedom in a wilderness that can only be fantasized,
by yards with picket fences and neighborhoods with residential pride.

Wildflowers grow best where they are free to stride.
This place of tranquility, nature’s sanctuary, is romanticized.
The grass must look greener on the other side,
to yards with picket fences and neighborhoods with residential pride.

Thank you for reading and supporting my love of writing that provokes deep thought through authenticity, philosophy, and symbolism.