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The Weed

Contributed by starkindler on Tuesday, 20th May 2003 @ 07:35:00 AM in AEST
Topic: Lifepoems

Hot, red brick; and
Between the cracks,
Weed is battered by heat.

Withering, dry weed;
Helpless before the cruel,
Merciless sun.

The sweat and dirt smell of death;
The death of the weed, powerless
As the shadow that is
Directly under the table.

It has nothing and is nothing;
Waiting to be plucked
From between the hot, red bricks.

There is nothing I can do to change
The direction my life is taking.
The weed and I, like criminals left to the mercy
Of the sun; of the rain, that
Has yet to come from under the clouds.

The weed is miserable and ugly,
A slithering worm. Reminder
Of this heat, of this cruelty that
Is destined to face me
Day after day.

Copyright © starkindler ... [ 2003-05-20 07:35:00]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: The Weed (User Rating: 1 )
by S_K_Williamson on Tuesday, 20th May 2003 @ 06:32:19 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

I would think you got a good grade for this piece of work.......maybe I need to take a closer look at my "weeds". I really liked this .
Great write,
Sharon;)

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