sharing is caring

Ok,
since so many people told me they liked my last poem ( telling me telepathically has worked well, but commenting on the blog would be even better!)
here is another:
it is a little deep,
give it some time
maybe you will understand?

The shaved mourning midnight maiden-
but there is no funeral as she stands on the corners of Prospect and the Masses
A glistening crown globe she wears
speckled by inching growths of black ivy in this well kept garden
shorn,
protesting invisible weeds and cruel t-r-i-c-h-s
Nipped in their bud,
quickly,
before they could find a glisten of sun,
a breeze to catch their strand and carry their
INTENT!
Had she noticed the maiden mourning the midnight beyond Prospect,
in the Masses?
in the sky
colored headwrap
to enshroud the horrors of her crown
of the rotting fruits of healing hands (much like mine)
we mean no harm, first do no harm,
but we have planted a longing in her four fair chambers
for far less invisible,
the quite welcome weeds to sprout from her barren garden globe
to protest,
before She,
like a cruel T-r-i-c-k is nipped in her bud,
quickly,
never finding her glisten of sun,
a breeze to catch her stranded
to carry on her life's intent.