I am a weed.
I am a plant whose reason for being
Is not yet known,
Whose worth is not yet understood,
Whose value is not yet measured.
I continue to grow
No matter the challenge
Of heat and cold,
Of drought and rain,
Of sun and cloud.
I am a weed.
No tender flower
Of grace and power
To bring a tender smile,
Or sweetly scent the air,
I am simply there;
Along the side of the road,
Holding tight between the cracks,
Emerging where unexpected,
Growing after being cut back,
Refusing to be dislodged
To satisfy what the garden lacks.
I am a weed.
Strong.
Resilient.
Resistant.
Surviving.
