The flower knows how it feels
To not have heard the wind blowing
For it gives the flower a stiffness life
Where it should be waving lively.
The flower only wishes to hear
The sound of the cool breeze
But the wind does not think of it so
And passes by and is gone.
What has happened, O dear wind?
Where have you gone to?
Why is it that I can no longer hear you
Nor feel you passing through?
Was it something that I've done
For being a lifeless tool?
Or is it that you no longer want to pass by this empty land
Where this flower stood?
I miss him.
~Peace & Love~
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