Weeding in the yard again,
In vain attempts to extricate,
Green creeping tangles which offend,
And yet, why do they irritate?
Why do some plants give happiness,
While others cultivate distaste,
Some blooms and shoots shall blossom bliss,
With those adjacent seen as waste.
Do they have not the right to grow,
As those we favor and protect?
They share no care nor love bestowed,
Yet thrive despite our cruel neglect.
Alone, for this tenacious skill,
Should they not somehow be adored?
Alas, the heart loves what it will,
With all else it beholds abhorred.
