You used to own a garden full of bees, I helped you plant cherry blossom trees. I listened to the whistling trees, thinking at ease, why did you leave in this cold breeze? I look at the flowery pot which you had watered with so much love over the promenades - the leaves are now down a few shades. Strange since you seemed to care so much once- now your existence is beyond the palisades. There was so much light in your eyes just moments before you left. What will happen to all these things that you have started now when you are at rest? You are your own theft. What will now happen to your garden? Where you planted your tulips and roses in such arden. They have all grown tall in a world without your pardon. To do tasks with such love that you did, it leaves a print on the world around. You can see it the flowers, the bushes and the trees abound. Love like that doesn’t fade. It cannot fade. Because it would mean that all my memories would exponentially incinerate
Anonymous
