You dreamed this path:
trim, well-tended, gently curved
swept clean of twigs,
spent blossoms, weeds,
ugliness and pain;
but you couldn't keep
the blooms in bounds
when once you looked away
nor me as I strayed
to smell that one weed
you forgot to pull.
It looked a bit like me,
neglected, sad
among that overwhelming beauty,
yet there it rooted
even bloomed
if only just for me.
This was the path
you chose for me
the one I forsook
to find my way
among those weeds
and thorny friends
whose ugliness and pain
became the mirror
in which I could be
myself, a me,
that you could never see.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.07 seconds at 2:31pm on Nov 10, 2024 via server WEBX1.