Revisiting Poetry

My first poem in a VERY LONG TIME: 


You yearn to pick the rose that grows
behind the bulletproof glass.
I watch with the melancholic laugh,
as a garden flourishes behind you.

Kaleidoscope blankets of flora wait at your back,
but will you notice before summer has come to pass,
when the hand of time throws infinite petals to
wilt in browning grass?

My dear, that glass you will not crack...
Just turn around to see, everything of your dreams
is here right now. Forget the future and the past.