Saturday, September 11, 2004

Dried Little Flower.

Suffocated by fears
Lost opportunities to grow at hand
They've flown away with tears
Confusion and lies whirling around
"Save my poor soul, is there still hope?"
Losing grip and falling to the ground
Will such a little dried flower
Be a loss to the world..?
The depth of aloneness lived within it's soul
Now gone and dead
Yes, no more pain to hold.

*pained and immature.
-+rei.090804.