When people come and go, whose fault it is?

When people come on our blooming lawn With buckets of memories to plow and to grow One day soon, why should they go? Is this how everything should really flow? Why should the warmth of their joyful souls Cover our freezing holes and wholes When in storms they’d have no ropes To pull us up from down below? Why should they dare to knock and roam In the emptiness of our closed doors When in fulfillment they’d choose to go To make our rooms abandoned and cold? But isn’t anyone else’s fault But ours, and ours alone? For we should have always known That all blooms could be our woe It’s when bees, butterflies, and everything that swallows Drain our gardens through endless sorrows - Bloom’s Doom | Derims