I walk through a patch of yellow flowers,
Some have shimmer, some have a glint of gold.
Others invite the sun to play,
A pencil, some paper,
a pen, and a chair.
A desk by the window,
and the wind through your hair.
No one knows the rocks that burden my shoulder,
breaking bones piece by piece.
No one sees my rapid heartbeats,
as they are drowned by head hard thoughts.
The bead from a necklace,
The kiss from a date.
The love from my parents,
These hands have touched everything,
as so far goes the truth.
The deep, ridged scars,
are the obvious proof.
There are so many parts to this girl that you see,
Feigned smiles are only a tidbit of she.
Well-practiced acts doth she show,
But of seams on the heart,
A sweet aroma of freshness hardly lingers,
Cracks in the sky invisibly splinter the clouds.
For even a moment,
The tree stands still.
It moves its hands in a strange greeting,
as the sunrays warmly kiss both my cheeks.
All spirits of Mother Earth are listening for my depart.
The bird is in the sky.
Its ebony black feathers contrast against the aquamarine background.