The Weeds
The garden is in shambles
But the wilderness is free
It makes no sense, and yet there is it
Growing like weeds
The garden is plucked and prodded
Shaved down or burned out
Yet the wilderness grows free
The trees grow without a problem
Because that’s how it’s meant to be
Who ever said that the weeds are weeds?
Who ever declared that the wilderness cannot be free?
To grow, to live, to be?
We all know who it was, they came in and began plucking the “weeds”
And burning the trees
If a weed dared grow in their garden it might as well
Have been declaring war
All the “weed” wants to do is just be.
To grow and live
Yet somehow it’s a “weed.”
And all because they declared
That it is not the same and
Therefore it cannot be.
They have gotten better, they have begun to learn
To become more aware and understanding
But sadly there are still some who only
See weeds
And want to them to simply not be
And all because someone long ago said that the “weeds” cannot be,
And the wilderness cannot grow free
How dare they not let them live and let the wilderness grow free?
Especially when the whole point of the garden is to be free.