Roses are red,
Oceans are blue.
The green grass is soft with truth.
But somewhere out there,
Without a hint of despair,
I sit there in glee
Under the willow tree.
My parents have gone
Somewhere nowhere near.
Yet I shall not shed
A single tear.
I look up in the sky,
And see the birds fly,
Wishing someday to be free.
Roses are red,
Oceans are blue.
The green grass is soft with truth.
But somewhere out there,
Without a hint of despair,
I sit there in glee
Under the willow tree.
Heedless and lean,
I scramble in the weeds.
Playing with the bees,
I wonder what I need,
For I have no greed.
And just for me,
And whom I shall be,
I'll do myself one good deed.
Roses are red,
Skies are blue.
The green leaves are soft with truth.
But somewhere far out,
I do not scream or shout.
For I sit there in glee
Under the willow tree.
About a book I read called Counting by 7s