"Dandelion Child"

I have never been especially interested in those who were born with a ”silver spoon in their mouths "as we say in Sweden.
Some one else can confirm them. I save my emotions for those who were born without something to” eat”, in the case of emotional nourishment. Those who had to live in the shadow all their lives. With nothing on their feet or in their backpacks but managed to survive after all. . In Sweden we call them ”dandelion child” those who survive against all odds. They are my heroes.
They know all the nuances of black but colours are foreign to them. Since they grew up in a scale between black and grey. But they managed…

How did they do it?

I know many ”dandelion children” With the most horrible backgrounds. And I will never stop asking how did they manage to psychological survive..
Yes they have my fully respect and admiration and they have much to share with the world if we are ready to listen…
They are those who can learn us to appreciate the light after having lived for so long in the darkness. They should be our teachers instead of all ”silver spoons” ”besser wissers”
But do we listen to them in the "margin" or do we blindly trust titles and exclusive educations even if they have no experiences at all in the topic where they acquired their postgraduate training.

Words and education is wonderful but experiences will always be one step ahead.
Without these so much become just empty words….

This my text is an praise to all the ”dandelion children” all over the world . We owe you all our respect…
And I think you are those who can change the world since you have the needed perspective ….

Maskrosbarn

De blåste hårda vindar
den dag som du blev till
ogräs blev du kallad
kalla vad man vill

Den kraft som du besitter
den knäcker hård betong
den avundas av plantan
på var köksbalkong

Den kluvenhetsom skapats
av mask och rosor född
är signum för din styrka
välväxt inte gödd.

Hur marken än är danad
du växer lika väl
och i den gula blomman
finns en kraftfull själ

One a again a ridiculous attempt to try to translate a poem *smile* a real "mission impossible" but i do it anyway ;) So here:

Dandelion Child

Hard the wind was blowing
the day you came to life
weeds were you referred to
name it what you like

The force that you possess
destroy the hard concrete
envy of each seedling
On the kitchen balcony

The mixed feelings created
from worms and roses born
is the signature for strength
shapely not fattened up but worn.

However the ground is shaped
you grow with dignity as well
and in the yellow flower
a powerful soul is veiled