Weeds

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Like weeds among the flowers in my yard,
you sneak inside my soul and block the sun.
I wish at times like this my heart was hard.

There was a time when loving you was fun
but now it feels like leeches at the lake;
the damage I’m not sure can be undone.

I should have known the tenderness was fake,
like pink flamingos at my Grandma’s house
or toothpaste icing on a birthday cake.

The spark of passion inside me was doused
and wisdom seems a lousy end reward
for watching one you thought would be your spouse

prove all your dreams were just a house of cards.
Like weeds among the flowers in my yard.

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