It may be difficult
For a flower to bloom
But it withers
In a little while

When the last drop of youth
Has been sipped
And we become nothing
But struggling, boring adults—

You'll look back
At this moment
And wonder if you
Bloomed well

Because nothing
Hurts more
Than realizing
That you are

Just a wilted flower
From the start

Never bloomed
Never blossomed
An unfolded flower—
From the very beginning