All the Roses Are Blooming

Never a town, or city has been so completely empty since this past February; all the roses are blooming, trembling hands are waiting... there's someone who's too lonely! We need to breathe the scented air that some can't smell and show our gratitude without knowing when to break free from this magnitude; we can't hug anybody who is very dear... is there and an end to tears that flow in this endless solitude by walking side by side and keep a calm attitude? All the roses are blooming, and towards the golden sunrise, they seem to cry; last spring someone cut them and took them to church, or gave them to a sweetheart waiting on the porch. All the roses are blooming, a year ago they were picked by the young hands of anxious lovers who couldn't resist their loveliness; now, even butterflies keep away! All the roses are blooming, looking at a sky colder than January's wind-swept snow; people need to smell them before they lose their glow: take one and give it to the first person you accidentally meet: understand their loneliness with some humanity! All the roses are blooming in an open garden that was the joy of beautiful Lynn; she only watered them on days without any rain!