Garden
GARDEN
Derived from a purity unknown
A natural resource, a source not shown
We derive from truth
From the tree of the fruit
We have been brought up since youth
To be flowers of the real, to not throw stones
to stay connected to our roots
Somewhere we became weeds
smothering and choking vine
A garden over grown
Somehow down the line
Our complaints turned mute
Our muscles abandoned our bones
Our soil hasn’t the minerals to feed
We are kept separate, forced to be all alone.
We bloom in the shade
We are wilted brown from green.
We stopped seeking the unknown
Copyright © Joel Thornton | Year Posted 2015
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