Willy the Weed

Willy the Weed went to seed As he spawned off little weeds To have them blow on gentle breeze Landing where they may Some landed in the rolling hills Others in deserted fields Burrowing deep for greater yield To pop up one fine day Some made their way to city streets Others to paths a bit off beat Ready and willing to take the heat As Summer brings it on Always able to survive While other plants around them die They stand tall, in fact they thrive Going it alone One day to seed off on their own When they are old weather and worn Taking to the breeze like when they were spawned Floating off in glee No telling where they will land Somewhere close to be the scourge of man To be pulled from the roots by callused hands Like their daddy Willy the Weed My day job is Lawn care...weeds will be the death of me yet... My night job is cleaning office buildings...what can I write about scrubbing toilets... Hmmm...let me think...