There is a flower so beautiful
Which is dearly loved by all.
A flower that's blossoming
Like a youth who's so charming.
Yet despite its beauty
It can make people gloomy
The joy it used to bring
Can one day leave a sad surrounding.
Like grass, the flower withers
Though still preserved in vase
For two days, three days or even weeks
Making tears crawl down on cheeks.
Soon, it will really have to go
And join the soil and the grass below.
Yet I hope someday it grows again;
From withering it shall refrain.
No comments:
Post a Comment