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.