You say whatever you want, you think of;
You however or rather get it if you wish
As you start grow wilder in a cold rain.
You pick up a twig of flower, but get frustrated
In a moment's enthralment.
You know some translations of your beauty
As you can't hide under a watchful sun.
You pull the world in your vigorous arms
Yet, can't turn down a galaxy; it's even
Smaller than a minute air of spring. No, you
Don't know that. Busy, enchanted and romantic
About an anniversary, perhaps the day the sun
Was as bright as your happy minium. I still
Disagree- you can feel the glory of withering
Leaves at spring's arrival. That unconsciousness
Makes your stomach a bit upset insulting your
Glamorous lips. Don't your brows droop when you
Go out in an April-jubilation and the torrential
Weather shares your lustful eyes.
You participate in every social degradation, but
Never mend your dream in a fix. I say there is
More to life than living it. You will ask about
Them when you 'll require a day of unerring rain.