Just the thorns left behind by fallen petals
Dried earth and withered leaves
Left alone against a long winter
After all, so much time had passed
Since he last felt like visiting it
He couldn't even remember the last time
That he watered any of the flowers there
Nor could he remember which color they had
Or how any of them smelled in the past
He had long ago lost his interest in those
But still, in a certain morning
His tired feet dragged him outside
For no reason at all, as if it was fated to happen
He returned to his dead garden
And smiled to himself
It was funny, really
His abandoned garden, more then ever
Reflected his abandoned self so much
He couldn't stop smiling
Nothing held any meaning anymore
Not the bitterness
Not the colors
Not the cold
Not the fragrances
Nothing moved his heart anymore
But the irony itself
Of only having left
What he had become
So with no happiness
No sadness
He smiled,
For the were no reasons not to do so.
Lucas Rangel Lima
