Blueberries

I remember my first question about plants, A question that taught me about life
It was the mysterious season in between fall and spring, a season where the plants have not yet unfolded but ready themselves for they know that time is soon
the days become warm and wet but the night is yet cool
standing in my mother's garden in the morn hours, wind dusk has yet not fled, leaving the stage set for dawn to do its merry dance
my mother was hard at work one morning with the blueberry bushes
I was horrified at the sights that greeted my eyes in the Eden of my youth
my mother's plucking the budding flowers of the new yearling plants
"why you killing them", I wailed, watching each one drift down to the ground like a fallen angel, picturing each luscious berry that would never reach my mouth
but the lesson i learned was that the if the tree does not focus on its roots for the first couple years of its life, it will never grow roots and be strong and will instead wither and die, so too with people,
if we never put down roots when we are young, how can we ever expect our words to bear fruit.

Jack Collins

Is there anyone sad to see you die?
Friends with tears to cry?
It seems wrong
the pigs felt you didn't belong
Another homeless person, one of us
GONE
Now the city's singing the same old song
Now that you're gone
Now that you're gone
Will anyone change
Or will the same fingers be pointing the blame