The Garden of the Wilted Rose

This pain is all too real; I wonder if anyone really knows. All the hurt, I was unable to conceal, For I stood alone in the garden of the wilted rose. Alone, lost in old memories, As the briars clung to my clothes. I feel the bite of the chilly breeze Standing in the garden of the wilted rose. I look for answers but they can’t be found, And my thoughts scatter as the wind blows. Wilted petals on the ground held me spellbound, But I finally escaped the garden of the wilted rose! Note: I wrote this for Madison Thomer because she loved the line from my poem, “Heartache”. ‘You can find me in the garden of the wilted rose’ Hope you like it, Madison.