Deep and beautiful.
How did they pluck the flowers of me?
The budding explosion of perfume and pride.
Each one pushed through such dark deep earth.
The soil and shit of a life in this age.
With their eyes they take.
With their hands they snatch.
Groping and tearing at the petals of my mind.
To say the tears watered the earth, sullens those drops so innocent.
Muddies the pools in which my heart swims within.
So I keep them out.
I fence it in.
Planting pansies in the mouth of the weeping willows.
Building the trees tall that they reach up to heaven.
Where I can make my escape.
To plant fresh seeds in the lunar lawns of eternity.
Alone and content, to watch it all from space.