They are everywhere,
sprouting in the front lawn,
growing in the ball fields,
shooting through cement cracks.

Like constant unwanted hair,
they get clipped short,
get plucked from the ground,
but they always come back.

Starting off as tiny seeds,
they get deep in the soil,
absorb all the water and sun,
and thrive off the land.

They are the annoying weeds,
they get in every place,
no matter what is done,
they survive in mud and sand.

Return to Poetry