A lonely dandelion,
Stands alone,
A single flower,
Will silently moan,
The weeds around it,
Are withering,
It’s petty petals,
Are littering,
The ground,
All around,
The lonely dandelion.
The lonely dandelion,
Stands alone,
A cloud puff on its head,
And soon it will shed.
The lonely dandelion,
Is not dead,
Merely drifted away.
To a place,
It can stay.
A yellow lace
On their heads,
All around,
Like dots in the grass.
Yash menon 
Yash,
You are quite observant to capture a dandelion in your words. Finding beauty and joy in ordinary is admirable.
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Thank you! I am glad you noticed!
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