My equilibrium reels from the scents;
a kaleidoscope of hues merge as one;
A garden of hope, peace and beauty,
blankets my mind like shade from the sun.
A gift from God to the lonely and sad
to brighten their spirits of need;
life among rocks, dirt and drought,
making dreams sprout like a seed.
Iím out of my element, not welcome,
a thorn among roses they say;
squeezing life from Godís planned Eden
with tendrils of death, day by day.
But I must be needed for something;
For God made no mistakes in creation.
He prepared all with a purpose,
even me with hopes of salvation.
So why do they mock me with hatred and scorn,
and unearth me by pulling and digging?
Why do they throw me away to my death
ending my life by reneging?
Why donít they understand my potential?
Surely God sees my value; knows the cost.
Like a sheep in search of its home,
a reminder of love for the lost.
I thank Him above for my existence,
bearing manís disgust and denial.
Knowing He chose me to stand sturdy,
and be steadfast throughout every trial.
For in the end, all will see why he cherished me
and was patient for me to succeed;
growing amidst others more polished,
just a garden-variety weed.
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