DEBRIS

DEBRIS
In the corner of a ruined garden
To the side of the broken house
Old-fashioned promises
Forgotten and lying dead,
There is a wild and vulnerable beauty,
Lost unsolicited minds,
Where thorns weave the thorny path
Green wind in the meadows.
Hugged with loving hands for a long time,
It was used for digging will be lost.
The apple tree, as it always grows,
Yet the red roses bloomed.
But, to the creeping tragedy
And moving, and jumps
This is not a forgotten, loveless garden
For them, it is a paradise.
WILLIAMSJI MAVELI