A Punishment

What do you call a place that gives the respite your soul needs? But this home moves and disappears, And it’s grounds forbid your entrance; What do you call bed that holds you like how a child assumes the comfort a cloud can give? But this bed has hiding springs and a tattered duvet; What do you call a garden that has a promising cornucopia, you had planted every flower every fruit and herb with your own hand. But then worms expressed interest, your nurturing proved only attractive; What do you call a place that holds your heart? Comfortable and caged; The windows are shattered and the garden is choked with weeds; Watch your heart shrivel, I love you too. S.M. Alexis