A tree sways at the affection of the wind.
Kissed by the ever-changing breeze, it submits itself entirely; bending to the winds every whim hopelessly hoping that that gust will blow its way once more, once more, once more.
Alas, the tree stands still. The wind keeps moving.
I am the tree. you are the breeze.
Please, blow my way.
Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 12:22 PM UTC
A tree sways at the affection of the wind.
Kissed by the ever-changing breeze, it submits itself entirely; bending to the winds every whim hopelessly hoping that that gust will blow its way once more, once more, once more.
Alas, the tree stands still. The wind keeps moving.
I am the tree. you are the breeze.
Please, blow my way.
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