Be wary of comparison.
It is a weed that chokes,
whose roots grow deep.
It creeps like kudzu
across one's garden,
nestles in the holes and rot.

It devours the light,
casts beautiful flowers
in pale, envious shade.
It hides the glory of
what you have sown.
The weed poisons the lot.

Such sour fruits and alluring stench
attract only flies and spite.
Root it out of your soil
before the weed takes over.
It thrives, defiant,
but nourishes naught.

Penned by my hand on the 23rd of Miraman, in the year 987 AF.