I walk into a garden
With but only a mere child’s feel
I look around me, the innocence shining
The light, painfully, seems oh so real

I come too quickly
Am stopped by something
And as I turn my face

I see flowers of the prickly sort
My life begins changing
When I see a maze

Garden doors are tricky things
But in this case there were three
Three doors, three choices
Oh my, which one shall it be?

The first is dark, with broken, shredded vines
The second is golden with coins portrayed on the sides

I look at the two, with delightful curiosity
Until my heart froze
I saw a third with a humming bird
So light, as if she knows

The third was neither of gold nor darkness
But of flowers and something in the core
In the core, oh, so beautiful was a key
With that I opened the door