Where you are standing it's what I'm missing to be complete.
So I look into the deep opened sky.
It might cry for the places that it had never been to.
He does not like to be a spectator.
I don't like it either.
You keep playing all those football games, as I watched for days, expecting
that white ball to escape and slip through my fence.
The frosty trees in summer loosing their leaves-consequences of snow-- and
they fall along with me.
I picked one up, and I saw green letters mark correctly finely thoughts; 'I
don't like being alone' I almost heard the barely dead leaf said.
It is alone, for the places you are standing.
He misses a space, I'm lacking time. What is it that you can't find?
I left and saw three greenish and dirty lakes.
I drowned, and came floating like a feather with time.
He picked up one lilac, and the frog jumped disgusted.
Why you take away other spaces? You already invade all of mine.
I'm not able to escape like all of the mention above.
Not even inside myself I could wash away like rain.
The truth is that if I was a leaf I wouldn't fall away and said I am alone.
For my hitting from the tree back to the snow will make me just turn
As for the lilac, it wasn't me you picked. I was the frog that had to give
up the place he had called home.
Do you want to know what happen with me? I'm sitting in a spotless
nothing which conducts to nothing.
I'm waiting in a greenish corner of your lake, and I'm drowning, I'm
drowning again.