In the garden, which once bloomed
Is left with dry leaves and weeds
Unattended by any gardener
Shrubs and hedges grown out of proportion
Even the walls have been claimed by poison ivy
No visitor here, in this forlorn patch
Dried and desolated, bereft of all the juice
It can’t sustain beauty anymore
Reminiscing, its heyday, the bird’s paradise
Variety of flowers, thronged by bees
Sweetest of nectar have once been tasted
The wooden bench, discolored, and weary
Once part of the romantic words exchanged
Between lovers, and a place to rest
For the elderly couples, trying to revive old memories
Garden itself is now a part of memory
Listening to so many anecdotes, happy or gloomy
Yet, the garden, was paradise once
Welcoming everyone with open arms
Now past its prime, it’s in a dilapidated state
Not a soul to tend its broken heart
No one will be there, to mourn the loss of paradise