A Farmer's Lament

A poem I wrote about a conflict I was having in my life at the time.

And now
I’m not so sure.
The field I plowed
Seems to be dying with the coming freeze.
I can’t tell if those sprouts are still growing
And my inexperienced eyes can’t tell if there’s frost on their leaves,
Or new buds

I would ask you,
Seeing as you planted the seeds.
I only tilled the soil,
But your steely gaze is off-putting
And I can’t even see you through all this fog.
I maimed the ground beneath me,
And you showered me with praise.
Now it looks to be bouncing back and
I don’t know if I want it to.
All that hard work for nothing,
Or at least it seems that way.

I shouldn’t have helped you rake the earth.
I shouldn’t have cared for it so much in the first place,
But I sold my land to you
On good faith that I would be compensated
And now
I’m not so sure that I will be.
I can’t tell if I should’ve watered that land
Or if I should keep killing it with my hoe.

Author's Note

I'm looking for interpretations or praise, criticism or tweaks welcome.