A Garden Grows

A garden grows this darkened wood shade by ancient Oak clouds be thick dirt be moist where breath of Sunlight choke plentiful the plant does grow in pitch of night it feed on onion root and wayward toad this plant of human seed cloned and honed to grow as wheat what science has begun hide away these darkened wood should mother's soldiers run with fires racing cross the open seizures of our land our dna from yesterday shall rise from death of man

Deckard

I began writing poetry when I was a teenager and it truly saved me from a destructive path. 'Time Heals' will be on my grave stone'. I have 3 incredible kids who are the greatest gifts that God has given me. If I have advice to give to aspiring...

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