A little seed lay in the ground

And soon began to sprout.

Now, which of all the flowers around,

Shall I, it mused, come out?

The seed could be heard saying, “I don’t care to be a rose. It has thorns. I have no

desire to be a lily. It’s too colorless. And I certainly wouldn’t want to be a violet. It’s too

small, and furthermore, it grows too close to the ground.” The final verse explains the

destiny of this fault-finding seed.

And so it criticized each flower,

That supercilious seed,

Until it woke one summer hour

And found itself a weed!

– Author Unknown