Like the leaves that were rustling with the wind
Touching surfaces, blocks, and walls
Reflecting adult-like banters
Each passing,
Going back and forths

Like those pebbles that were skipping
branches that were kissing
And dirt flying against our skins
Each passing,
Retiring from mine to hers

A thousand chirps I did not mind
Yet a venture made it clear
Your soul is a wanderer
Like mine. Yet, we ought we’re not as much
As we thought we’re alike