Like a vine you took hold and grew on me
And in all my years of simply prunning you back, occassionally
I now know, I must cut you...to the root...from my life
And save what is left of my good soil
For planting the rose bush
I want to grow back
In my garden
I admit my relationship with trees has more growth
than anything I have with you
You are no longer welcome in my garden
And what weeds you have left behind
Will be trappeled at the garden party
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