Don’t Pull The Weeds | Joyce M Sanders

Don’t buy me flowers after doing me wrong;
I prefer you just do me right.
Don’t buy me dinner as a make up gesture;
I prefer we just not fight.

Don’t spend a lot of time apologizing
for not keeping in touch,
saying you don’t know how it happened,
since you think of me so much.

If you show your appreciation
while I can appreciate your showing it,
you can greatly enrich my time on earth
without ever even knowing it.

Your words say that you love me,
and it seems easy for you to say it.
Don’t wait until I’m in my casket
to finally display it.

If during the time I’m living,
the best to me you gave,
there should be no need for you
to stand weeping at my grave.

If you treat me tenderly
at times when we’re alone,
you needn’t worry about tenderly
maintaining my headstone.

If while on this earth you show me
the respect that I deserve,
it will not matter one iota
how well my gravesite is preserved.

Don’t pull the weeds from my grave
to try to make things right.
I ask you to pull them from my garden
and you put up a fight.

Don’t pull the weeds from my grave
to try to make amends.
When I have taken my last breath
is when forgiveness ends.

If you put flowers by my grave,
that are put there out of guilt,
as soon as you walk away from them,
they certainly will wilt.

But if flowers are put there with love,
they undoubtedly will thrive,
knowing that you treated me well
while I was still alive.