Love is a weed

You never really believed in me
in what I was
or how I felt deep down
I wounded you somehow
like a thorn in the side
now I sing the song
you never sang for me
of birds wings and butterflies
and freedom to love
but you have to try
life without love is a monotone
of events and days
overlapping each other
I am the weed in your garden
they are harder sometimes
than the flowers
carefully planted there
and tended lovingly
and keep coming back
however much
you cast them off

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