As the seasons fall and grow, I copy the same patterns.
I am mended with this earth, my tears flowing into rivers.
My cries echo with thunder.
As the blistering heat of summer shins on my skin, the warmth of my mood tends to grow. My smile brighter than the rays in the sky.
But as the little forms of life start to fall from the trees, the mix of colors gently resting for sleep, so does my motivation. I start to droop, close my doors up for winter so no chill can hurt me.
Gusts of wind gently creep into my head, and a cold darkness overcomes me quicker than any other kind of depression. I dig a hole in the snow so deep that I'm frozen solid, stuck in this state of mind, until someone thaws me out.
For finally spring has bloomed again, and the small ounces of my humanity grow in different ways. My pedals are not as bright, my thorns grow longer, sharper with each year.
I am mended with this earth, my tears flowing into rivers.
My cries echo with thunder.
As the blistering heat of summer shins on my skin, the warmth of my mood tends to grow. My smile brighter than the rays in the sky.
But as the little forms of life start to fall from the trees, the mix of colors gently resting for sleep, so does my motivation. I start to droop, close my doors up for winter so no chill can hurt me.
Gusts of wind gently creep into my head, and a cold darkness overcomes me quicker than any other kind of depression. I dig a hole in the snow so deep that I'm frozen solid, stuck in this state of mind, until someone thaws me out.
For finally spring has bloomed again, and the small ounces of my humanity grow in different ways. My pedals are not as bright, my thorns grow longer, sharper with each year.