My tears water the garden
that makes up my heart
for I know you will turn me away
for my selfish ways,
wanting you as obesity
craves ill health
and
wanting you as sorrow
wants to bleed.
You will sit on your throne,
beauty and everything good,
and tell me the fruit I seek
is not mine to touch.
I will beg for a mere morsel -
but you will guard it from me.
You have good reason
to loathe me,
to fear or to worry of me.
There have been those
who have stolen pieces of your heart,
ne'er to give them back.
Those vile scum have not savored
what sweetness was put to their lips.
They spat it out in front of you,
and you wept
to see the mess
that
you were forced to clean
alone.
I am not the past,
but the present or even future.
Let me show you that the planted seeds
will not feed an ungrateful beast -
but be a sight to treasure
and
cry for crowds to behold
what would be mine alone.
I would gloat as if I'd struck gold,
savor every flavor that you'd will me.
People would grumble that the fruit I would hold
would be far too rare and good for me.
Your heart something
of which I'm not ever close to worthy.
(I would happily agree!)
I cannot savor, though,
what you dismiss from my touch -
so I sit in my chambers,
on my bed,
and let the garden be what's fed instead.
YOU ARE READING
To the World...(A Collection of Poems)
PoetryZelda Aurora Gabriel has been writing poetry from the time she was 13. She is now 25. Different from others her age, poetry became an outlet and a means of understanding a world that often didn't understand her. "To the World" is a compilation and a...
