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Gardening
He treated me like a weed,
growing in his garden
Protecting me from other plants
who tried to steal my light
He gave me lots of compliments
Praised my beauty and my soul
Until two other flowers
seemed to catch his sight
He planted them right away
One from Texas, one blazing Red
And dug me from the ground
I might as well be dead
So now I am a weed, thrown aside in the dirt
Dealing with the sadness, the anger, the hurt
But what he does not know
is that i have a certain charm
and i have sown my seeds elsewhere
Far from his harm
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This article has 3 comments.
I know exactly what you mean in this poem, and how could you say this isn't a good poem? I thought it was really good :)
Check out my work if you want to :)
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Favorite Quote:
"Oh, so you have enemies? Good, that means you've stood up for something you believe in." -Marshall Mathers