The blossom trees blow
Their branches move so slow
No one would ever know
How sadly the petals go.
A boy has run away
And sits under the tree today
He wishes forever he could stay
In this beautiful Summer day.
He sighs, because he knows
That he has to go
The heavens whisper "hello"
Depressing though this is, he didn't do so.
She hides away in her home
Forever isolated and alone
All she will do is moan
No one hears that story she's sewn.
She is jumping
He is bumping past the people in the way
He must catch her today
But she is falling.
YOU ARE READING
A Different Voice
Poetry"Why is it that those who choose rightly and differently from others never feel like they have succeeded until others tell them that they have succeeded? And why is it that those who choose wrongly and the same to others never realise that they hav...
