Ragtag Daily Prompt Thursday – A Flower Cried

Over the hill

from where I live

is a garden

where nothing grows, except regret.

In the garden

over the hill

from where I live

nothing grows

and

there are no more second chances

there are no more disappointing kisses ,

no more hellos,

no tortured goodbyes

no one here will ever  miss bus, or train or  lose money or catch a cold.

In the garden

over the hill from where I live

the stone angels look like they’re crying ,

but they have never shed a tear

the flowers, cut down in their prime, when they are at their brightest

 weep and fade when it’s their time to go

like all of us do

on the other side of the hill

from the garden

where nothing grows.