garden

Find me all the time in a castle of gray and white
When you do, ask me what I left behind
In time you will see that all I am
Is not what I proclaim to be

I am a shell of a shell
Was never true to myself
Perhaps it's not too late to learn
That a helping hand eases the pain

My castle is overgrown, I should cut the weed
But the thorns are digging deeper, leaving fine scratches on my skin

I hired a gardener to oversee
The cleaning and pruning of thorns and weeds
He took one close look at me
And created a sculpture of my visage

It is me, he corrected eagerly
How he sees me! Surprised, I've never seen myself
I am amazed, looking around, noticing
That the thorns and weed were made to resemble me

Come spring, I'll have a garden of fragrant flowers
That my gardener has nurtured himself
He's got a green thumb, an affinity for growth
I meant to keep him... If he's not already mine​