like a hundred suns in skies of grey,
smiley faces beneath your feet;
long after the roses have faded
and strewn wilted petals on the ground;
when the lawn looks parched and has lost its green;
we continue to bloom in bright of yellow
and try to spread some cheer.
But like the outcasts of society,
no shoes that say "Gucci"
and no suit that fits like an Armani;
no fancy names like "Rose of Sharon"
as a Valentine's bouquet we would never do,
for we are a dime a dozen, come to think of it we are "free"
"a weed" is what they named us,
like the child that is bullied
for not fitting into a "clique"
please do not shun either,
for we have so much to give;
the child will share her smile for a tiny bit of praise,
and we will dot your lawns with sunshine,
if you only take a second look.
Adding your comment:
I love dandelions too. This poem made me smile yellow suns that turned a grey sky blue 
Beautiful! 
