Weeds, unwanted every spring,
Are dug out of the ground,
Young and lusting more for life,
They’re piled up in a mound.

Not in gardens, lawns, or parks
Will gard’ners let them grow,
What belongs and what does not
Is up to them to know.

Competing for resources,
Per every garden book,
They thrive in darkened alleys,
Where no one cares to look.

Functionality is one,
Cosmetic reasons too,
Horticultural concerns
Are certainly not new.

A construct of the human mind –
Plant, place, and perception –
This is how we cultivate
The seeds of self-deception.

4 thoughts on “Weeds

  1. i love the turn at the end– didn’t see it coming. lovely.

    1. I’m glad you enjoyed it. πŸ™‚

  2. What mandycregan said – the end – made me go back and read it all again. Interesting. πŸ™‚

    1. So glad you found it interesting! πŸ™‚

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