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...
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