Life is a weed.
It flourishes,
Everywhere.
In jungles,
In deserts,
In the cracks,
Of city sidewalks.
It springs up,
And takes firm root.
Quickly becoming,
Lord and master.
And then,
It goes to seed.
Spreading itself,
All over creation.
Then,
Just like that,
It dies.
But,
It lives on,
In places,
Too numerous,
To count.
Places dear friends,
That one day,
It touched.
There are many weeds,
Growing,
In my heart, and soul.
9/26/13 Alton Texas
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wonderfully written, but somehow the last part didn't have much effect on me.