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 When people come on our blooming lawn
 With bucket 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

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 Bloom’s Doom | Derims poetry