As days go by, I wipe my eye, they call me just a weed
I try my best, and take a breath, I’m trying to succeed
I live along the roadside paths, with traffic rushing near
Fumes are strong and dust is great; my life is such a fear.
Gardeners like to chop my legs and take me to a heap
Before I have a chance to grow, or even have a sleep
I need to flower and spread my seeds, my family has to grow
I want to be a happy flower, a peaceful life, that’s slow.
So please don’t say those nasty words, you’re just a grotty flower
I can be pretty some of the time, when refreshened with a shower
The dust has gone, the leaves are bright, I’ll greet you with a smile
A breeze will sway my bright white look; I can do it with some stile.
Keep smiling, oh! and this plant is called Ground Elder
