When the late snow in may has yet to melt.
Underneath earth's skin, flowers, ready to grow
try to push their way to the top. We all know
and we will never forget what that really felt

like, trying to grow, being pressed down.
Quite some chances I'll be doing that soon.
With only one thing blocking my road,
easily dealt with, hard to confront, me.

Maybe it's all coincidence, no way she,
regardless the signs I'm sure I saw, brown
eyes staring deep into my galaxy, slowed
movement, travelling further than just the moon.

The ball is in my court, I have to react except
if now she accepts what I keep refusing to accept.