he is like a bud that felt
burned by the sun
afraid of the future
in misconception that it exists
he has never lernt how to swim
and sunk deep down a while
he always chooses the sad side of a day
the sad side of beauty
like me
I would draw him a Greening tree if he asked
it would be wide
to cool the fever of the burning sun
it would be high
so as nobody could reach it's fruits
at ease it is only a dream
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