Just one flower

I rose from the depths of soil to reach the sunlight, to grow my leaves,
Green as a dazzling, rich emerald straight from the terrain.
Attempting to replicate Jack’s beanstalk I stretched, lengthening my stem,
Only to be compelled back to the murky soil by pelting, icy rain.
The exquisite flowers blossoming on others were invisible on my bare branches,
My branches so jagged, the reverse of the flowers that I could not obtain.
I elongated my twigs, twisted in the thicket, seeking the glow of the sun,
However, the torrential and persistent rain cascaded across the fields again.
I promptly plunged down smacking my hope into the treacherous muck,
Revealing a fracture in my limb I whimpered soaking in the agonising pain.
Albeit it healed as brisk as a meerkats head turning when noticing its predator,
An epiphany of my mighty strength and my magical power entered my brain.
My power that is so tenacious it can heal itself and grow my immense twigs,
My power that can overcome the most onerous challenges trying to take my reins.
My power that might not be able to produce flowers but can make me exceptional,
All I ever wanted was just one flower that my resilient sprigs could not strain.
In my rooted prayers, I begged for one flower to be perfect like others,
Others who were undeniably flawed but were unique and far from being in vain.
And uniqueness I received from having naught on my branches, not even a flower,
A flower that I did not need to attain.