The name of the kid who asked my friend Dan this is lost to posterity, but I’ve answered anyway.
The gardens on faces
Aren’t planted with seeds
For some, they are flowers,
For others, they’re weeds
So some people trim them,
And some people mow them,
And some people grow them
And grow them and grow them.
Some gardens are messy,
All bushy and wild
And some are kept neat
And impeccably styled
Some people have gardens
They don’t really want
And some people wish
They could grow one, but can’t
The gardens on faces
Aren’t planted with seeds
For some, they are flowers
For others, they’re weeds.