I guess that I was a strange kid, as I wrote a poem about a weed when all the other children wrote poems about flowers. It wasn’t a very good poem, but I was only in Grade School. It was a rhyming poem and it went something like this. You know what, I am still strange.
I think that the weed will succeed
Even though it came from a tiny seed
Flowers may lead, but the weed is freed
I have decreed that the weed shall lead
I will wear my tweed and bleed
Don’t make me plead, just do the deed
Take heed and mount your steed
They agreed to proceed with the stampede
There is no need to read about greed
Ganymede made friends with a centipede
The cat ran with all its speed, but it got treed
God decreed, let there be weed
Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver – #237 – August 22 – Weeds.