My Garden

Once we had a nice garden,
flower bushes, fruit trees all around,
everywhere planned greenery surround,
planted by my forefathers then;

in fear of stepping a green someone,
one never walks on the ground,
we children then were astound,
seeing carpet of rose, orange or lemon;

they tamed the wild forest green,
to create the green so mild,
but my brothers and I’ve been,
bent on destroying green world, wild;

now the barren desert seen,
has stolen the smile of my child.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s