Not For Me Poem by Cee Bea

between stone walls and twisted vines
lay tales and trails of broken signs
that point to a direction none
rather… at a thought begun

That starts within a look of lost
it has no price, nor any cost
paid in life, by time we spent
that ends where hope survive's the rent

this is the place where we are found
by anyone so duty bound
I touched it once, now love it so
I tend to it, in hopes it grows

It is no place, nor point of 'found'
yes it is a garden, but it needs no ground
when it blooms, then you will see
this garden grown is not for me