Her Garden was more lethal than pretty
Visitors never came and people avoided the place
Butterflies flew away, but not in a good way

Her Garden was a reflection of her own self-pity
Seeds were planted and things became deadly at their own pace
Ugliness was growing and unhappiness began to wail

Her Garden was a reminder of her overrun self-abuse
Everything growing was as poisonous as the memories she was trying to erase
She planted with anger and the beauty of it all seemed fair wage

Her Garden was an item on her to-do list screaming to be self-addressed
Visitors returned and the smile came back to her face
She cleaned up Her Garden and dropped the anger from her waist

Her Garden was rescued from the beat down of her self-esteem
Flowers replanted like books put back onto the dusted off bookcase
Wildlife regrown and given the freedom to roam, so the landscape isn't wasted

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