In My Secret Garden Poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

In my secret garden...,
I shall present to you the things that I enjoy privately the most.

In my secret garden...,
I shall present to you the most horrible times of my life.

In my secret garden...,
I shall tell you who I love.

In my secret garden...,
I shall share with you the most happiest times I have ever known.

In my secret garden...,
I share both my political and personal opinions.

In my secret garden...,
The stories will not always rhyme or make sense at the time.

In my secret garden...,
Their will be ramblings that one will not be able to understand.

In my secret garden...,
Their will be questions unanswered.

In my secret garden...,
Grows a tree.
Only time will tell if it is truly meant be.
The flow destiny.
Riddled with flaws that cause a due pause.
A hesitation in a time of meditation.
Will it reveal a revelation?
With time as the contemplation.
I leave to you nothing but mere thoughts.
Straight from both my head and heart.
With patients as my virtue, I still might never have my true start.
A unfinished, undocumented, and incomplete works.
Even with the greatest dedication I still at times get stuck.
It is as much a mental block as rotten luck.
I've always said it comes waves.
And it does, I can't turn it on and off as I like.
It chooses when and where.
I write both in love and in despair.
Some times this leaves the dependability up in the air.
But it will not stop me from living as one lives.
To take in the moment, draw it on a canvas, and describe it as my own.
Most of the time I do this all alone.
For theirs something wrong with me.
I enjoy my silence.
I enjoy my seclusion.
I enjoy my indifference.
Wrong as it is, I think I've been hurt just too many times.
To go back and make the right friends to make a better ending.
My happily ever after has always been disaster.
And I credit no fault but to my own doing.
I will never live upon a such a lie or illusion.
I was a fool with a big heart.
And now I am a fool with no heart.
Nothing in between so it seems.
A redemption that will not be redeemed.
In many ways I have come clean.
Rid my soul of the guilt of a lot of dirty deeds.
In this I feel better no matter what is achieved.
Goals to high, and I just can never focus on one thing.
A master nothing but the emptiness I have created for myself.
Like a bed in which I have been forever in a slumber.
So many ask so much of me.
And it gets so complicated
It's like take number.
A overwhelming feeling.
I'm swamped and I'm making a little to nothing in headway.
With this my lord I pray you will take me to a different place.
One where I fit in to the common race.
An ugly uniqueness, in which I'm sure any compliments shouldn't be given.
Trying to make so many decisions.
Which ones matter the most?
Triage upon a battle field.
So many wounded soldiers.
Will I ever be able to bring them enough closure.
Just let tide take me back out to the ocean.
Float away into the unknown and uncharted waters.
Just maybe there it will be a little calmer.