There's grass growing where the garden was.
She took away the fence one day and just mowed over the entire thing.
My poetry has become crooked lately.
I used to write for others.
I would edit and make sure my words flowed perfectly together.
I dont have time for that anymore.
My words come out of my head crooked, and thats how they go onto the paper.
She mowed over the garden.
I didnt even like the garden.
I'm terrible with plants.
I have other things I'd rather be doing than gardening.
I get too hot being out in the sun weeding plants.
I just liked the garden because of how happy it made her.
But she mowed over the garden.
I guess other things will have to make her happy now.
