Who gave you the key to my secret garden?

I surely did not

 

Who gave you the pick to trick the lock to my mind

perhaps a deal had been struck, and I not consulted

 

Who pray tell made your eyes look like the sea?

perhaps God took them and placed them there for me

to admire

 

Who let you sit in my secret garden?

It is rude to snoop and take what is not yours

Are you a child, for you show no remorse

or is it I who’s the child, you inquire

 

Why do you sit amongst the lilacs, bleeding hearts,

and Queen Anne's lace

Why bother visiting me now?

 

Why does my chest hurt-oh

Roses have grown in my lungs

I cannot breathe but that bothers me not

 

for you have planted seeds of passion

within me with a single kiss

You have kindled fire

inside my imagination

old and forgotten

 

So why do you

why do you

why do

why

why...

why….