Surroundings

The white crayon neglected by everyone

The lowest in the box.

I am an innocent daisy surrounded by weed killer.

I Grow with the Sun and shrivel when disturbed by fungus.

The egg in a carton that you will crack for personal need. 

The stick of creamy butter, fried to nothing when placed in a sizzling pan.

Others are a harmfully written message in an envelope but I am the whiteout that shields the reader. 

I am a ripped out page in a notebook with wasted potential.

But I am not trash, a wrinkle can be ironed, a fold can unfold, and a tear can be sealed.   

I am not ordinary limestone

I am a cocooned butterfly and I will metamorphosize to polished marble.