MY GARDEN BLOOM
I have a garden bloom
In my vast abode of life,
But rare are the flowers
You can see blooming inside.
It’s neither the roses nor the wild flowers,
Blessed by the morning dew.
But the flowers of loneliness
Sprinkle by tears to let them grow.
Friends may come and go
Flowers of pain they’re on to grow.
Oh God will there be someone
A friend, a gardener may be
Who can pull these flowers of pain?
That keeps on haunting me.
If someday these flowers may wilt and be gone,
In my garden of lonesome memories I’ll lay myself.
I’ll spend my life and sheave the new seeds of hope
The pain or the countless agonies let be totally bygone.
With hope that scented and colors of friendship
Will be the flowers abounded to be in time.
And not tears to shower then
But love and care flowing like a mountain stream.
