Poetry time

it’s time to return
to the rose garden
your final fight
can’t be done
under broken branches
you’ve played your part
your petals have fallen off
so return to the place
so you can rejuvenate

find a mirror
see the creature
trapped in this place
too much city life
will turn you into a puppet
so many people
you have to run around
like a headless horsemen
just to find yourself
an empty vase
that use to own
beautifully alive roses

it’s time to return
to the rose garden
before you become dust
not everyone
can act like adults
some just want a fan club
but you just need
people you can trust
which is hard to achieve
eventually
I go blind
trying to read between the lines

find a mirror
see the corpse
trapped in your eyes now
They made her all stuffed
like a wax doll
In this sick Mütter Museum
everything smells so nice
and in the corner of your eye
the mind plays games
she’s reaching out
what is she trying to say?

it’s time to return
to the rose garden
before you completely lose yourself
you had no words to say
you can see her pain
your heart is setting up traps
so nothing sharp can fall in
you understand
this isn’t a movie screening
where all slowly falling
from grace
the mind likes to play games
because reality can be a scary place