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You were a weed that grew in my garden
Your throws grew, climbing up slowly-
Sharp enough, you penetrate my rose.
You took away everything that was pure and beautiful.
You swallowed my garden whole.
Now all that grows here is false beauty-
An emptiness created-
A barren land and a layer of dust reminding me of once was.
Intensifying the pain of dying innocence.
Yet there you stand, so radiant and bright-
Captivating a lover’s eye
Now you grow in so many different gardens,
Waiting for your next victim to be planted.
Copyright © Anna Culotta | Year Posted 2023
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