Weeds are mighty tanks,
Storming down long lines of orderly flowers
Who wait pathetically for
Whatever fate awaits them.
Weeds are poisoned,
Pulled up and murdered,
But grow stronger
Because they have to fight.
While the flowers wail for water, or
Fertilizer, or
A nicer temperature,
The weeds battle just to live.
Gardeners complain.
Weeds attack the flowers! but don't they know
That the flowerbed is the sanctuary from Weed-B-Gon?
So answer me this:
Who deserves to live?
We take so many things for granted: all weeds are bad and ugly; all "classic literature" is actually good. I'm not usually the poetry type, but I found that this was the best way to get my message across: think outside the box, dang it!
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1 comment:
A weed (two definitions):
a plant that is not valued where it is growing and is usually of vigorous growth; especially : one that tends to overgrow or choke out more desirable plants
an obnoxious growth, thing, or person
The interesting thing is that thinking outside of the box led to the development of some of the flowers we enjoy so much today - cross-breeding for color, disease resistance, required sunlight, etc. You have to give props to the guy who saw a flower he loved growing in the shade and worked and worked to change it enough to allow it survival in his sunny front bed.
:)
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