I reach FOR THAT FLOWER,
THAT GROWS EVERY SO HOUR,
RED AS THE SAND,
I JUST WANT TO HOLD IT IN MY HAND.
IT CONTAINS ALL MY HOPES AND FEARS,
LIKE A CLOCK WITH GEARS,
EVER KNOWING,
ALMOST LIKE its ALWAYS GROWING.
IT FADES IN THE NIGHT,
YET IT SHINES SO BRILLIANT IN THE LIGHT,
SO BEAUTIFUL ARE ITS MIXED BRIGHT YELLOW PETALS,
BUT IT’S COLD, HARD LIKE METAL.
AS I THINK OF THAT FLOWER IN THE RADIANCE OF DAY,
I KNOW EVERYTHING WILL BE OK.
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