|
The old house stands deserted |
|
Crumbling and decaying |
|
Its broken windows watching |
|
As a young child wanders |
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In amongst the roses |
|
Overgrown and falling |
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The garden once was cared for |
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Life is like the garden. |
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The roses reach to touch her |
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They whisper as she passes |
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Their petals form a carpet |
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Soft and warm and scented |
|
In amongst the roses |
|
Full in bloom and fading |
|
The young child cannot hear them |
|
Life is like the young child. |
|
The young child has been gathering |
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Flowers for her mother |
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Flowers for her bedside |
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Flowers for her table |
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In amongst the roses |
|
She is gathering wild flowers |
|
The roses bend to kiss her |
|
Life is like the roses. |
|
The old house stands deserted |
|
Crumbling and decaying |
|
Its broken windows watching |
|
As a young child wanders |
|
In amongst the roses |
|
Full in bloom and fading |
|
The young child cannot hear them |
|
Life is like the young child |
