Flowers of the Mind

Flowers of the Mind

There are flowers growing in my mind,
They have no garden they can call home,
They grow between my strangest thoughts,
In places where my memories roam.

Some are red with yesterday’s pain,
Some are green with dreams still new,
Some have petals made from tears,
And some are painted every hue.

I water them with things I remember,
With words I never got to say,
They open when the night comes down,
Then hide themselves throughout the day.

One flower holds my childhood years,
Another holds a love long gone,
One carries all the hurt I knew,
Yet somehow it keeps growing on.

There are weeds amongst my flowers,
Old regrets that will not die,
They twist themselves around my thoughts,
And ask me questions such as why.

But brighter flowers push on through,
They refuse to bow their head,
They remind me life keeps growing,
Even where a dream lies dead.

My mind is not a perfect garden,
It’s wild and tangled, strange and free,
But every flower growing there,
Carries just a little piece of me.

So I will never cut them down,
Not even those that grew through pain,
For flowers born from broken places,
Can learn to stand and bloom again.

And when my mind becomes too crowded,
With all the things I left behind,
I close my eyes and walk amongst,
Those crazy flowers of my mind.

Perhaps that’s where my poems come from,
From seeds that nobody else can see,
They flower quietly inside my head,
Then spill their colours out of me.