When you did it
You planted a garden, the garden of hatred and grew around it a hedge of jealousy and envy. You cultivated it all, watered and dug around, gave it the attention of a farmer to his tender crops. They did not disappoint you. They grew to become full plants and your hedge finally got to mature. You always wished for a way to get to them, a way to attack their inner core, and insatiable desire for destruction and revenge. You wanted barbs to throw; why now don’t you pick them off your hedge? You wanted to have all their dreams, why now are you complaining when their nightmares float outside your house? Every night you plotted in your bed, how you would overthrow the amateur kingdom, wishing to take it all and condemn them to hell. Where is your happiness now? You envied their red lips and their full tummies, the way they walked and the way they talked. You wished you were them, that you would swim in all they had and play in all they wanted. Why now do you complain when their sorrow heaps itself on you? I think it is time to get to apologize but what to do about your thick tongue? What to say about your paper-thin will? Run to them and apologize, for I hear the tired crow of the rooster coming home to roost. If you cannot, then prepare your hearth for the eggs of disaster and bad luck. You wished for all they had, now why are you crying yet you got it all? Your problems have fermented into milk but there is no one to drink with, for you milked the cow in the dark and hid it all for yourself. You should swallow your pride, run to them and apologize, but how can you swallow it when it is too thick to go beyond your throat? Remember the harsh words you spoon-fed them and the ill will you fasted and prayed for? Remember the chains you brought to tie them with? They shall not allow themselves to languish in your myopic jail. Watch them all as they climb over your acidic words and clamber over the boundaries you had placed over them. Watch them run to the future as they leave you decaying in your shallow past. Look back at your shadows and see that your shadows have bones, a skeleton and even flesh. You prayed for the tree, I know you did but all you found was a sapling, a figure too thin to lean on, and when you leaned you tumbled to the ground. When you found a tree it wasn’t the one you wanted. You expected to find one dripping with fruits and flowers, but you found one with pines and itchy sap. It will have to make do; you will have to make do, for it is you who dug the grave. You should not have prayed for what you did not know, for they were slaves awaiting freedom, not passengers on the cruise ship. You inherited not a box of treasure but that which was abandoned by Pandora. You should let them all go, for you shall never get to find them again. They crossed hills and valleys and disappeared, for those who only know the dark of night tire not of the sun, and those who have known the sun only languish in the dark. Your prayers were answered, now stew in the glow of glory.
You planted a garden, the garden of hatred and grew around it a hedge of jealousy and envy. You cultivated it all, watered and dug around, gave it the attention of a farmer to his tender crops. They did not disappoint you. They grew to become full plants and your hedge finally got to mature. You always wished for a way to get to them, a way to attack their inner core, and insatiable desire for destruction and revenge. You wanted barbs to throw; why now don’t you pick them off your hedge? You wanted to have all their dreams, why now are you complaining when their nightmares float outside your house? Every night you plotted in your bed, how you would overthrow the amateur kingdom, wishing to take it all and condemn them to hell. Where is your happiness now? You envied their red lips and their full tummies, the way they walked and the way they talked. You wished you were them, that you would swim in all they had and play in all they wanted. Why now do you complain when their sorrow heaps itself on you? I think it is time to get to apologize but what to do about your thick tongue? What to say about your paper-thin will? Run to them and apologize, for I hear the tired crow of the rooster coming home to roost. If you cannot, then prepare your hearth for the eggs of disaster and bad luck. You wished for all they had, now why are you crying yet you got it all? Your problems have fermented into milk but there is no one to drink with, for you milked the cow in the dark and hid it all for yourself. You should swallow your pride, run to them and apologize, but how can you swallow it when it is too thick to go beyond your throat? Remember the harsh words you spoon-fed them and the ill will you fasted and prayed for? Remember the chains you brought to tie them with? They shall not allow themselves to languish in your myopic jail. Watch them all as they climb over your acidic words and clamber over the boundaries you had placed over them. Watch them run to the future as they leave you decaying in your shallow past. Look back at your shadows and see that your shadows have bones, a skeleton and even flesh. You prayed for the tree, I know you did but all you found was a sapling, a figure too thin to lean on, and when you leaned you tumbled to the ground. When you found a tree it wasn’t the one you wanted. You expected to find one dripping with fruits and flowers, but you found one with pines and itchy sap. It will have to make do; you will have to make do, for it is you who dug the grave. You should not have prayed for what you did not know, for they were slaves awaiting freedom, not passengers on the cruise ship. You inherited not a box of treasure but that which was abandoned by Pandora. You should let them all go, for you shall never get to find them again. They crossed hills and valleys and disappeared, for those who only know the dark of night tire not of the sun, and those who have known the sun only languish in the dark. Your prayers were answered, now stew in the glow of glory.
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