A Lesson in Botany

When I plant seeds in soil, I know how to make them grow.
But this, what I’ve been trying, is not a science that I know.
I am diligent in making sure that all my friends stay green
whether they require full sun, shade, or something in between.
If they begin to wilt I can always keep them well alive,
I can save just about anything that’s still green on the inside.
But this, what I’ve been trying, is not a science that I know.
This, what I’ve been trying, I can’t seem to make it grow.

In summer some things die because the heat’s too much to bear,
in winter, sometimes cold is what brings my friends to despair.
But I thought what I’d been trying would be sure to grow for years.
I thought what I’d been trying would always keep on growing here.

So maybe at some point my watchful eye had looked away;
and maybe my dear friend had not been watered a few days.
I must have put him in the shade too long for him to bloom.
I must have gotten careless, he’d grow alone, I had assumed.
But this, what I’ve been trying, is not a science that I know.
And though this plant of ours is dying, I can’t seem to let it go.