The days are warm, sunny and bright,
Not a person penniless.
No bad words are spoken,
For someone stirred in the Garden of Happiness.
The nights are cool, but alive with music,
To be heard by girl and boy.
The song is played over and over,
For someone stirred in the Garden of Joy.
The wars are gone, the people plenty,
All offer their thanks to the God above.
The peace is felt, the pain erased,
For someone stirred in the Garden of Love.
But there is one a black as night,
Pain and fear tinges the air.
One strayed the path and must suffer plenty,
For someone stirred in the Garden of Despair.
Originally Posted On Site: 2011-10-23 18:46:44
Last Login: 10.24.11
Visits as of 12-12-07: 83
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