I take a seed to become a tree,
That will bear the fruits of our lives together,
I hope it stands above the dirt, stronger than oak,
Standing in the most fearsome of weathers.
I put the seed into the ground,
Cover it with the loam of infatuation,
Smirk as I fantasize about the strong tree,
Grown from the waters of affection.
Days turn to weeks turn to months,
Not a single sprout above the earth,
As much watery affection I can spare,
Beginning to wonder what this is worth.
At some point I must reassure my plan,
Dig down to see where the seed has gone,
Along with my patience, the seed has died,
So I cast myself away to plant another one.
One by one, seeds die beneath the soil,
So much time to used and no result,
And many at once would probably work,
Then again maybe it’s my fault.
I honestly never cared for trees before,
Yet now it’s something I’m compelled to do,
But if the soil here is not fit for growing seeds,
I’ll go very far away if I have to.