A jigsaw puzzle of cement
Halfheartedly slung together
Demands my utmost attention
As your thorns poke and prick me

The weeds indignantly intruding
Between interlocking pieces
Develop a stern distaste for sharp metals

I can’t really blame them
I’ve never looked at a knife
With a measure of satisfaction

Why should I be uprooted?
I’m perfectly happy in this soil
But I suppose that
On the contrary I may
Perhaps
Depending upon the day
Be in your little concrete jigsaw puzzle
Wedged between two interlocking pieces

Or am I a concrete piece
Waiting for a weed to be dislodged?