Looking out my back window today
I saw what this season of neglect has done to my yard
The weeds running wild, the shrubs untrimmed
And all the flowers I so lovingly planted,
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What I like here is that you use direct language that isn't burdened by artificial poetry, but the notion of 'neglect' needs to somehow reflect the human condition at a deeper level to make the poem come alive and mean something to your reader. Flip the ending maybe and make the damage darker, is an idea.
John, after thinking over your comments I added another stanza which clarifies the theme of this poem