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Crawling up the cottage fence,
Your weeds entangle and ensnare,
Their pestilent intent resolute.
They wind tighter as I struggle
To tear down these tendrils of our heartstrings.

Dousing them in poison, pruning them
From every dank corner in which they thrive,
I thought for sure they would have died by now.

Perhaps survival of the fittest
Runs through the insidious blood
Of your thorn-heart.

Although the neighbors complain,
Spring looms down the lane,
And I remind them that when you bloom,
All magenta and vermillion,
We’ll call it wildflowers.

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Poetic_PersonThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Jun. 15, 2012 at 4:23 pm:
Wow. This is great. Very detailed... it made a picture pop up in my mind! Very nice
increaseyourpace This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. replied...
Jun. 15, 2012 at 6:23 pm :
Thank you very much! (:
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