Garden of my own

I stood alone, and empty-handed,

Wondering where all of me had gone.

A once vibrant garden bathed in golden light,

Now dimmed and beholding wilted leaves,

Lost in the labyrinth of gardens belonging to others.

Had I given too much away this time?

I had intertwined myself with them,

Healing them with water and sunlight.

No person fended for my withering stems,

no one paused for a moment to see if I was parched

My hands, now bare

Once full of healthy, blooming vegetation.

Certain I will give no longer,

What I was equally worthy of.

For the flowers I've yielded,

Have left me a few seeds, I will nurture

assembling a new garden,

Where I can flourish.