I strive to be seen
Through your favorites’ screen
I rise up and greet
But no one wants to meet
My presence…for I am a weed
Started just like the others, from a seed
My form may not be your idea of pretty
As others grown here, but please take pity
On me and others you choose to despise
We all need a place to live our lives.
***
The Bag Lady 
a wonderful poem Cheryl!
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I love that you wrote from the point of view of a weed.
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Thanks😊
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Aw, that’s a sweet take on the prompt!
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Thank you
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A beautiful poem
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