So as of last week, I posted a year’s worth of poems. I decided to start a new group this week. This poem was written around 1993. I tried to make hanging out in my basement with my cats sound poetic. 😺 This is from the era when I first started writing poetry seriously.
I escape to it each and every day
My Secret Garden
It’s not really a garden
It’s a basement you see
But it’s really important to me
It helps me to create all my hopes and dreams
My secret garden relaxes me
And helps me a lot
It cools me down when everything is sticky & hot
My secret garden
Rests me when I am tired and weak
After a short visit it feels like a long sleep
I get myself stressed out
By people who aint got no clout
But no one can invade My Secret Garden.
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So if you enjoyed this poem, check out my latest book of all-new poetry.