You've Got Apathy About Worshipping The Sun Poem by Mark Heathcote

You've got apathy about worshipping the sun,
Gardening your flowers on your side of the fence,
Your head is hanging like it's a spent blossom.

You've got bored praying unheard to your god.
Ploughing your land without a song, vowing always
to do better but lose everything in the end.

Dispiritedness has now come to you like mildew.
But I can't stop loving you, although
Although you've got nothing left in you to give me.

Your feet are warming the sand where it is sinking.
Don't let me stop you from praying.
Your soles I've followed long enough.

If you want freedom, if you want -saving.
Well, I think it was time I left.
And saved myself or at least what little is left.

You see, my garden has flowers on both sides of the fence.
It is tended by the sun or rain and blossoms.
Whatever way the weather swings—snow, sun, or hail—.
I'm the same person who sends flowers simply out of love to your door, whatever mood comes from you.