There Is A Garden In Her Face,
Where Roses And White Lilies Blow;
A Heavenly Paradise Is That Place,
Wherein All Pleasant Fruits Do Grow.
There Cherries Grow That None May Buy,
Till Cherry Ripe Themselves Do Cry
I saw u sitting and crying..
so i asked u why ?
u dint answer..
i tried to hold ur hand..
but u walked away... wiping ur tears
then i realized we were sitting on my GRAVE !
The art of living does not consist
in preserving and clinging
to a particular mood of happiness,
but in allowing happiness
to change its form without
being disappointed by the change;
for happiness, like a child,
must be allowed to grow up.
