I often wonder, am I the man that got away the bandit in your bank robbery,
stealing pieces of your memory?
You always pay ransoms in random thoughts and lucid dreams,
While I'm always occupying the "what if's" of your mind!
How is that fair?
Deep down I know my blooms will never open again for someone else,
If I kept them deadlocked in behind the towers that I forced into establishment.
Is it time to reopen my heart again?
There's so much sadness buried deep in my heart that you know nothing about,
You think you can feel me, but you actually don't!
If you think you knew me well as my leaves fell, then do not assume that you know me in bloom,
I am a Different Tree in Spring.
-Mohamed Daza
