The Roses in my garden

I grew roses in my garden.

Red, were its colour.

Silky, were it to touch.

Brighter, it looked;

in the sunlight.

Thick green stem,

too thorny to love;

Yet! love to grow that beauty.

The green leaves gave it ;

some softer look!

small and big,

they stood proudly in my garden;

set in the small balcony.

Far away from my village,

in a city were the days pass faster;

I grew these beautiful roses to remember my past!

wonderful days, my childhood days;

which I hold in the balcony now.

Water, I do;

and watch them too.

I won't pick them,

it will die.

What good it do if I pick them?

They will no longer look fresh and healthy!

Won't it die and become dry the next day?

How can I kill the memories of my sweet childhood!

And if I don't pick them,

they will smile brighter ;

every morning when I wake up,

a little more brighter at me!