It's a joke
For you
It's an upward arc
For me
It's a scar -
not deep enough
But just see the blood

Dark clouds,
heavy rain.
A word-
called-
waiting.

The heart is made of water
Before was a river
Now is a Dead Sea

There are four seasons in my heart
I hope to meet you in Spring-
We can see how the mountains become green
I hope to meet you in Summer-
We shall see how the tides turn grey
I hope to meet you Fall-
We will see how the wind blows gold
I hope to meet you in Winter-
We could see how our eyes hide fire
I hope to meet you in -
Future

Sometimes-
I am just too afraid to grow up
So I lie at the window
And count the stars