Unfinished


The soil of my childhood
hard and rocky
Clay and dry
A desert without rain

It took many years
of internal tears
To water the earth
Around my heart again

Years of my adulthood
Lost
Unreclaimed
No memories of young love

I have wisdom
of a heart
That bore too much
Felt too much
Hurt too much

I can tell you
What not to do
Or at least
What to avoid

I was a flower
That bloomed
Too late
To be picked
For the parade
Of life

At least I made it
Into a bouquet
For an Autumn
Love