That tinge of green
Where nothing else would grow

Growing on your own
In that little strip
By that concrete boundary wall
Where the water from the overhead tank
Would spill..
You are a wild thing
Trampled, yet standing still.

The world makes you feel unwanted
Calls you weeds
But ask that little butterfly
The dragonfly and the beetle
For them you are the world
A microcosm of life

Ask even that man
Who loves a bit of chaos
If not for you
The world would be a neat place alright
Arranged in rows of squares and circles
But your lack of geometry
Appeals to him
He who likes all things wild

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