A child searched for the perfect gift
Soft cream and lavender appealed
Ignoring pain from the stickers
She picked some thistles from the field

Sucking the blood from pricked fingers
She soon gathered a huge bouquet
And proudly delivered her gift
With her wish – “Happy Mother’s Day!”

She thought her present beautiful
But to her dismay and surprise
The recipient was incensed –
The flowers were thrown out and despised

“So that’s how you feel!” was the shout
“You’re giving me these thorny weeds
This garbage you’ve just dumped on me
Is the last thing anyone needs!”

No one bothered to consider
That the gift was more than the flowers
The child felt her love rejected
And she cried for hours upon hours

She grew up, as little girls do
And vowed that she would be real tough
And never let on how it hurt
Knowing her love was not enough

But lonely’s lousy companion
She allowed herself to pretend
Someone would see she had value
And solitude would at last end

She gave her heart to a good man
Hoping he’d heal the hurt of years
But he perceived no beauty in
Thistles, well-watered with her tears

So she’s again left wondering
What’s reason for being on earth
When all she is and can offer
Is still completely lacking worth