We Are But Weeds

Humanity is but a weed,
Our own unconscious design,
Not a flower: rose or lily,
Not a tree: oak or pine.

Humanity is a weed,
Easily proved,
Never to be uprooted,
Never to be moved.

When fire touches down,
A weed will burn away,
But through some unknown miracle,
Will grow taller another day.

When fire touches down,
Man will do the same,
Perish from the heat,
But flourish with the flame.

When water flows freely,
A weed will grow beside,
Mimicking the breath of life,
That governs all inside.

When water flows freely,
From Egypt down to Rome,
Along with weeds on the banks,
Man will call this home.

When soil sits untainted,
A weed will soon impose,
A rude, invasive tactic,
But all that it knows.

When soil sits untainted,
Man will soon claim,
stripped of all its minerals,
To help mankind sustain.

Humanity is but a weed,
Alike we are so,
Yet our hate for our rooted brothers,
Appalling how far it goes.