Mary...Mary...Quite Contrary
How does Your Garden Grow?
You talk about Me
You talk about Her
There's nothing good on your tongue
The seeds you kiss, reap only discord
Conspiring them before, putting them into the Ground...
Dear Mary....I've planted many a beautiful flower...
but behind my back....you pull them out
A beautiful garden....makes people feel good inside....
but when there is poison on the lips of a Gardener
It's Natural...the garden will die.
Copyright ©2011
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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