In this garden of self,
I will find the courage to see,
That I am both wild and wonderful,
A masterpiece of weeds and roses,
And that is my truth.

My truth is, I focus on the weeds in me,
Overgrown and tangled, they choke the light,
Their whispers loud, like a chorus of doubt,
Shadowing the path to self-belief.

I forgot the roses in me,
Petals of strength and resilience,
Their fragrance of hope, a melody,
Soft and sweet, yet drowned by the noise.

In this garden of my soul,
I tend to the thorns,
Pricking my dreams with fear,
Blind to the blooms of courage.

The weeds, they grow wild,
Roots deep in my heart,
Feeding on insecurities,
Thriving on my blind eye.

But oh, the roses,
They are there, waiting,
Silent guardians of my truth,
Quietly resilient amidst the chaos.

I must remember to water them,
With kindness and compassion,
To nurture the beauty within,
And let it flourish, unyielding.

For each petal tells a story,
Of battles fought and won,
Of scars turned into strength,
Of love, unwavering and true.

So here’s my promise,
To seek the roses in me,
To embrace the thorns,
Yet cherish the blooms.

To see the garden whole,
Not just the weeds,
But the roses,
In all their radiant glory.

My truth is,
I am a garden,
Wild and wondrous,
Weeds and roses alike.

And in this, I find beauty,
In this, I find peace.
For the garden within me,
Is a testament to my strength.

And I will focus on the roses,
As they unfurl in the sun.
For I am both wild and wondrous,
I am both weed and rose.

Love Aicha [eye-sha]