I see it standing there, swaying back and fourth in the blowing air
I hadn't seen something that pretty in quite some time
It isn't even the nicest flower out there,
Dirt around all the roots and some petals are falling off.
But in the field of uncut brown grass and tall dry strands
It looked **** pretty.
So I stopped and stared for a while, just watching and hoping that the pretty wouldn't go away

But it did, and yet I stayed
Still looking at what used to be the prettiest flower
It's head is hanging low, no more petals to show
They flew off in the wind some time ago,
There is no more pretty flower here, but I am still here
Wasting time on something that has moved on
And all the time that I will never get back

Behind me the flower blooms
From the petals that blew away to start again
Oblivious to other directions
Still watching the same flower willow away
And there I sit, eyes fixed on the past