Spiky

A Thorny Problem
I am just a bramble bush,
Which people hate, loathe
And detest. They pull me
Out of the ground as a
Weed at any opportunity.

But oh, if they only stopped
And thought about what I
Really am, they would leave
Me grow and develop to be
Just what I am come autumn.

Fructuous, that's what I am
In autumn! Producing a
Wealth of those delicious
Blackberries, just right
To stuff a baked apple.

But no, they pull me out
By the roots. Vandalism
That's what it is! But
There again it's their loss,
They miss out on my fruits.