The dew on the morning grass

Lasts but a brief time in the hot sun.

Much like some friendships gone

When misguided talk was spun.

Yet there is always a greener grass

Which the dew has brought to life.

And when you see the bright of day,

Nary a weed will have had its way.

Ah the friendships that last, fade in time,

For that has happened since the dawn of time.

A careless talk has irked the foundation,

That is no longer considered sublime.

Tender are the shoots, lest weeds invade,

And try to smother these fragile growings.

But the ever present gardner does his job,

And soon new life is added to his sowing.