(written August 22 * prompt used “poetry grows “)

Poetry grows from the seed of pain.
So I wander in this garden of wounds proliferating the earth with my words.
Melancholy and regret overflow in the soil as I dredge up my broken dreams.
I cry a sea of tears as I try to shelter the pain in my chest.
I look down at the metaphors that were sown with my pen, and I know there is no need to harvest them again.
Purged from my soul, like autumn leaves, they can now blow away.
I watch as new seeds bloom and flower, and the past is gone forever.
Copyright © 2023 Maggie Watson
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Beautiful….
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thank you!
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