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There is a rain that no one can see but I,
People step through it, it bothers them none.
Sometimes the rain makes a deafening cry,
Sometimes its a mist shining in the sun.
As each drop plummets onto the floor,
A crimson flower pops up from the ground.
Before long, there's not two, three or four,
There's too many to count, they're all around.
This is my secret garden for me alone,
The flowers they comfort me, soft as can be.
When I'm lonely I call this garden my home.
I fall asleep in their arms, they're strangling me.
I forgot to mention the rain is red too,
Pattering against my umbrella held tight.
I stick my hand out, it's easy to do,
The rain running down is a comforting sight.
One day I grew tired of the pattering sound,
I closed my umbrella, putting it to sleep.
I am covered in red as I lay on the ground
The flowers consume me, my soul to keep.
This is my secret garden.