The Gardener

We are all the tender of the garden that represents our lives.

 

Some of us look for soil rich in love and nurturing to grow our gardens, while others look to keep their soil sour and grow crops that bare no fruit.

 

It breaks my heart that this poem is a true reflection of one such woman's journey. Unless she gets her priorities in order, in the end she will be just a statistic to the power of what drugs and alcohol can do to destroy a person and her family...   C.

 

~*~*~*~

The Gardener

Can you hear them?

Shh! they're calling to you

Your collection of deceptions

Once a reflection of what could be

Now they're defining you.

 

In a garden of shame

You’ve been carefully tending

Nourished with hate, lies and pain

It flourishes

The plot grows bigger every day.

 

You tell us you’re broken,

But girl - you don't want to be fixed.

Your booze is your sceptre

And your drugs are your throne.

You've broken and blamed so many people

Soon you'll wonder why

You feel so lost, and stand alone.

 

Everyday it's a different drama

You refuse to experience alone.

You've devastated your husband

And left your little girls alone.

You travelled half way around the world

So you could get a little bit stoned ... with another man.

It's just a little fun. Everyone will understand.

 

With pride you advertised your shame.

Facebooked your exploits.

Relishing in your families pain.

Yes you shook them to the core

With one of many pictures

Of you on his lap - in a bar.

But you didn't stop there

You sent much more.

 

Surprise! Now the party is over

With fighting and great guns blazing

Your exploits not tolerated

In a country where you were a guest

You found yourself incarcerated,

and sent on the next plane home

To return to your nest?

 

So the bad little girl will return,

to expect her daughters to forgive

She will still try to use and exploit her husband.

He’s the kind of soul that just might once more,

cave in and forgive.

 

And the story will go on

Because she needs the attention and thrills

She won’t stop the drinking, and she loves the pills

She's said so many lies - It'd doubtful she even knows the truth.

She doesn't want to change

Her past is her proof.

 

And every day in her life

Will all be the same?

She calls her mistakes victories

And her families love - acts of war.

She thinks she reigns exalted

But they all wear the scars

A desperate unnecessary tragedy

Where her mind doesn't retain common sense anymore.

 

And they will all be left to decay and feed

Her garden of shame and self-defeat.

Where they will eventually wither and die

To keep her beautifully tended garden

Of stupidity and lies.

 

What a waste.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

This form of poetry has always been a challenge for me. I am improving, but I know I have MUCH room for growth yet. be kind! LOL

Reviews

[Glen Yumang Manese]

THIS WAS A POWERFUL WRITE FROM THE INTRODUCTION AND THEN YOU HIT US WITH THE SPILL WITH THE VERSE...I GUESS YOU CHOOSE THE OTHER PART OF THE GARDEN THAT DOES NOT GROW ANYTHING...BUT MAY WEEDS OF MISFORTUNE...THE READER IS CONFLICTED RIGHT AWAY IN THE LINES OF THIS READ...THE LIFE OF A CARELESS MOTHER --- ALCOHOLIC --- DRUG ABUSER ---...ADULTEROUS INDIVIDUAL...

NO CARE FOR LIFE BUT HER OWN AT THE RISK OF EVERYONE AROUND HER IMMEDIATE CIRCLE...LAYS OUT IN FULL ARRAY...NOT EVEN REHAB CAN HELP AT THIS POINT...UNLESS THE PERSON WITHIN CAN COME TO TERMS AND NOT KEEP THE DENIAL OF THE TRUTH...YET THAT SEEMS FAR AND IN BETWEEN...WHICH EITHER THE ALCOHOL KILLS HER OR THE DRUGS...OR BOTH...

[Constance Claire]

Thank you. You let me know I have conveyed myself well. I appreciate your feedback.

[Glen Yumang Manese]

you're welcome...was good to read you and your other verse...

[Betty]

Wow, what an amazing poem. You have told a wonderful story and i was completely enthused.... And it's so true, a substance abuser lives and dies unconsciously while those who love and care for them suffer day in and day out due to their reckless doings. Impeccable writing Constance, Loved it very much.

[Constance Claire]

Thanks. My husband is the best friend to the husband in the story. Sometimes it is so hard. you want to pick people up and shake them out of the vicious cycle of destruction, but they have to want it - or it wont happen.