by Jeannette

Created on: August 20, 2009

Secret Garden

the secret garden of my mind
the weeds do flourish
the roses die.

a winding vine with brown decay
withering in such dismay

the putrid stench of lost regret
the aching heart
shall not forget.

and thus at midnight
ghost birds sing
a wretched song of misery.

skeleton butterflies
fluttering fierce
soil so damp and
water so scarce .

the secret garden of my mind
no sacred beauty
you will find

just death and pain
and backwards thoughts
where weeds are planted
in cracking pots.

Learn more about this author, Jeannette.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.