by Simone loves.....

A wise man once told me
to only obey my voice,
but my voice is a frail flower
caught in a hurricane.
Not just any flower,
but a dandelion.
And with every gust of wind
I release new seeds of ideas
that spread through the field.

The heavy rain waters the thoughts,
Inspiring them to grow; To flourish.

So wise man now you tell me,
which thought should my voice follow?