I saw the stone that you threw
The one with shattered frame
You cut the leaves into two
For me, it’s just the same

You poked my eye with a burning stick
And then you smiled again
You dropped my heart but never pick
That‘s when it’s not the same

I am floating on the sea
With 3 petals that I picked

“He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me”

Those petals made me sick
They lied and now I see
I am the last petal that I picked

She had clouds around her head

Building up with a threat

Storm was coming so she fled

With a parasol and her death

Learn to feel pain even though it makes you sick
In life happiness is much easier to be used to
But once you learn how to appreciate the true value of pain
You will realize how much it can really help you

"If you were a storm, may I be your wind,
so I may be with you wherever you will go.
If you were the moon, may I be your poet,
and I will write about you in all the words
that I know."