Hydrangea Explosion

We were living in the age of innocence.
The diamonds and pearls they glisten,
so much magnificence on the surface.
July is beaming with sunshine and young lives.
Laughter from the garden parties,
boys and girls dress to the nines. 
Oh, if only they knew the euphoria is merely a disguise.
Take my hands, I shall pretend to care.
Forasmuch as you play nice, I will dance to your dry tunes.

I see hydrangeas and belladonnas in bloom.
Poets, they write psalms praising the youth.
It's still noon but my mind is in the gloom.
Behind that cordial smile, sadness still looms.
Underneath those heartfelt tales, lies the broken wills.
These colorful hydrangeas in bloom,
Under mid-July blues, seems too early to harvest, still a bit too soon.