Torn from your life
like a weed from a garden,
not caring of my feelings
or even asking my pardon.
Mindlessly dislodged
and left to wither and die,
not even given the chance
to tell you goodbye.
My love no longer worthy,
my caring no longer wanted,
and the pain that I feel
I will forever be haunted.
But I hold tight to my resolve
and hold my head high
as I choke down the tears
and refuse now to cry.
I know in my heart
even after I’m gone,
my love for you still
forever lives on.
It lives in the soil
where my roots still remain,
tattered and torn
but alive just the same.
So like a weed in garden
it will grow once again,
in the same exact spot
where once I had been.
It will grow strong and proud
replenished and new,
with kindness and caring
to give only to you
to watch over and protect you
and give you its love,
as I painfully watch you
from the heavens above.
If only I were a flower
succulent and ornate,
maybe I would not have had
to suffer this fate.