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The Death of Weeds
I sit in my garden
And plant my seeds
Oh god give me a pardon
For now I have to pull the weeds
One by one they all come out
The plants that were there before
So that my seeds have room to sprout
But killing those weeds I abhor
I shouldn’t feel that bad
They would have died eventually
But I cant escape feeling sad
There the same as me essentially
Their death can give one thing
To the world they leave behind
A chance for new life to spring
I hope in death they will be kind
Now my seeds have grown indeed
And with the new room I have provided
Have flourished without a weed
And when I saw this my sadness subsided
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