In Sunday School today, they talked about something that reminded me of a poem I wrote in eighth grade. The poem isn't that good, but I'm going to post it anyway.
In the garden of my mind
There is a seed I do not know
It’s new and odd , peculiar, too.
But not yet begun to grow.
I see it now; it grows up tall
As high as the eye can see
But all my other sweet little plants
Are looking brown to me
The more I water, the more they’re hurt
The larger took all the sun
The larger took all the water and dirt
The little ones are done
All that’s left of the garden
Is nothing much to see,
For all that’s left is that plant
The horrible, awful weed.