We Are The Weeds

We Are The Weeds short poem

Photo by AmyZZZ1

I feel sane in a mad world
How I wish to be mad like the others
I want to hide under the covers
And pretend I am free

My logic is chaotic here
Where fear is power and kindness is rare
I have no place in such a place
This is the torment I face

I feel myself become distant
I want no association with this tyrant
I want no ties to dead environments
I want to thrive to not feel guilt for being alive

Because I do
Its either there’s no food
Or there’s no room
But I have both
And so many don’t

Our lives and our meanings
Have become assets of greed
we are no longer the gardeners
we are the weeds

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Profile photo of Sarah Muldoon

Sarah Muldoon

Signup / Login to follow the poet.
I am twenty years young from Ireland, I write to express and to say the things I could never make audible. I have little academic knowledge of poetry but I'm okay with that! I live to gaze at stars and question everything, my ultimate dream is to reset the factory settings of humanity...
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

Be the First to Comment & Review poem!

Notify of

Of Wile, Weeds and Tides

Of Wile, Weeds and Tides short poem

When mine own would not take my case, Saying over and over it was drama repeat. I had no choice but to sway it laze, Sweep it under the rug, making riddance its seat. Agony, distress, mindlessness, unrest All showed