Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I pluck the weeds out of my head every season, All the bad, the negative thoughts, the unhealthy habits, so the flowers have room to grow. Until the next season, when the weeds regrow and I must pluck them again. I grab the base, pulling up the roots, Without roots, they won’t grow back. They do.
0
Apr 12, 2022
Apr 12, 2022 at 3:26 PM UTC
Weeding
I pluck the weeds out of my head every season, All the bad, the negative thoughts, the unhealthy habits, so the flowers have room to grow. Until the next season, when the weeds regrow and I must pluck them again. I grab the base, pulling up the roots, Without roots, they won’t grow back. They do.
Shewantsthesun
Written by
26/F/Maryland
Apr 12, 2022
Apr 12, 2022 at 3:26 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem