Dead roses welcome


Broken, the gate of a dying garden
Locked by a chain of sadness
Swinging aimlessly in neither direction

Forgotten blooms dry

Rusted thoughts deteriorate quickly
From a fallen porch swing
Tattered cushions offer no comfort

Chipped paint blinds longing eyes

Stepping from the edge of loneliness
Meeting the earth with a heavy foot
Looking beneath for a spot to rest

Tear drops moisten to mud

Carving marble words of the departed
Hammer and chisel cursive
Dust coats my throat as I whisper

Here lies my heart…dead roses welcome