Minding the Garden

      I find when I tend not
          to my mind 
    It grows unruly
       with thorn-tangled branches

      I must ceaselessly uproot
     sprouts of anger
         seedlings of negativity 
      lest the whole garden 
        within my skull
      be choked and strangled 
       by the virulent weeds
          of black apathy
    whose perennial bloom is Death