The Weed
Oh, little sapling, how is it you sprout in these harsh environs where man nor beast dare linger.
The sun, see how he scorches, burns clouds before their time.
Yet, dare you to flourish in silent defiance.
You humble me so, for while I seek succour from without, you brim with sustenance – from within.
Your very being, an exquisite art of survival and self.
*** Copyright @ Eric Alagan, 2016 ***