Poets & Poetry

The serial plant killer

Oh, I wish I had green fingers,
The sadness after each kill continues to linger.
The nightmarish view that confronts my eyes;
Leaves all withered, flowers coughing dust;
That’s the view that takes me by surprise!

Dead succulents here, dead cactuses there
The life in the plants seems to vanish into thin air.
Did the sun glare too much?
Or did the water stay out of touch?
There’s nothing on Earth that can help me deduce;
Unless it’s the glaring fact that I am a serial plant killer on the loose!
And yes, I’ve admitted to the crimes that I have done,
The water and manure were second to none.
I have killed more plants than those thieving little worms!
And it’s understandably late that I have come to terms;
Houseplants may be beneficial.
But right now, let’s stick with the artificial.
The serial plant killer has remorse of his own,
Wouldn’t it be better for him to be left alone?