What could I have had?
Who should have I become?
These flaws run too deep to change,
and you won't even listen to my whispering voice.
Whistle through the branches, rustling with the leaves.
Dig to the roots, and find the seeds buried deep.
Cold and wet;
Where life hides for a calm place to breathe.
When the season changes I will awake,
To meet the consequence of your actions you chose to take.
As death occurs, flowers will bloom to witness and share in mourning.
Quiet and peaceful.
For us, there will never be another morning.