Growing up
the growing weed never stops
until we cut it down,
and when we do
we’ve controlled its fate
becoming too much of an optimist.
is growing flowers too late?
trying so hard
to make it work our way
when we can’t it’s such a pity.
we stereotype
something beautiful outside.
is there room to make it pretty?
but when it grows
there were parasites
but how was i to know?
that it and others
would eventually show
that they could not grow up.
until we cut it down,
and when we do
we’ve controlled its fate
becoming too much of an optimist.
is growing flowers too late?
trying so hard
to make it work our way
when we can’t it’s such a pity.
we stereotype
something beautiful outside.
is there room to make it pretty?
but when it grows
there were parasites
but how was i to know?
that it and others
would eventually show
that they could not grow up.
Tags : Nature, Maturing, growing, weed
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This Poems Story
I think i will leave this one up to you. Interpret it any way you want. I wrote it one way, but after much consideration re-reading it, it turned out to have a more deeper message.
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