Please Scroll Down to See Forums Below 
THeMaCHinE
New member
Georgia
by MACHINE
I love to walk my secret garden. Each seed, each flower planted by my hand.
Scattered like the wind; here and there. I know where they all are — even the first; especially the last.
At night they look at me. I bask in the warm glow of their adoration. They think I'm special. Sometimes their stares hurt. The magnitude of emotion they channel is magnificent.
Sometimes, I can hear their voices whispering in the wind, filtering through the trees, murmuring like a springtime brook from the dark places — and beckoning softly from the places under the dark places.
They love me. And I love them. I'll never betray them. I'll never give them up to loneliness. I've been there; they shouldn't have to suffer.
I've never been so popular in my solitude. And with each one, my spotlight grows. I am the Creator. The Keeper. The Lover. The Protector. I talk to them. I hold their brittle hands, brush their molting hair and sing them lover's songs under the moonlight.
I never understood what it was like to be accepted, to be loved — and to love in turn. Now I'm a part of something. Something beautiful.
My garden. My life. My love. My family.
I'll never give them up.
© 2002
by MACHINE
I love to walk my secret garden. Each seed, each flower planted by my hand.
Scattered like the wind; here and there. I know where they all are — even the first; especially the last.
At night they look at me. I bask in the warm glow of their adoration. They think I'm special. Sometimes their stares hurt. The magnitude of emotion they channel is magnificent.
Sometimes, I can hear their voices whispering in the wind, filtering through the trees, murmuring like a springtime brook from the dark places — and beckoning softly from the places under the dark places.
They love me. And I love them. I'll never betray them. I'll never give them up to loneliness. I've been there; they shouldn't have to suffer.
I've never been so popular in my solitude. And with each one, my spotlight grows. I am the Creator. The Keeper. The Lover. The Protector. I talk to them. I hold their brittle hands, brush their molting hair and sing them lover's songs under the moonlight.
I never understood what it was like to be accepted, to be loved — and to love in turn. Now I'm a part of something. Something beautiful.
My garden. My life. My love. My family.
I'll never give them up.
© 2002
