I am a weed too, judged all sorts of things, just because I refuse to believe the lies we are told ad nauseum on the news and such.

I love this poem, especially this part:

but if that’s your stand
you know nothing of the earth
you know nothing of how roots grow in the dark
you know nothing of how poison is a guardian
and under the thorny bushes
seeds sprout to become trees

that's a promise.