Your Bones

I have a mighty garden

It's pretty and unique

The seeds I've sown are special grown

From dirt beneath my feet

But how, you say, as tall as they, can come from just the ground?

I have a special secret; once you know, you never will be found

Your bones will feed my garden

Powdered, painted, rot

When the crows come home to find you

You'll already be forgot

Nightshades, flowers, lions mane

And even baby's breath

Life will sprout

Where you are out

6 feet beneath the draught