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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.