I am a dandelion on the plains
Bursting with hope and the best
Of wishes
With an air of freedom I was blest
I am gifted with pleasant lightness
As I drift through
I catch sight of you
Where throughout the days
I drank in all from you I could get
Lovelier than I
I felt lighter
When finally a wind breezed me aloft
And I was off
A memory of me, all of them
Scattered to the world
Each part of me
Remembering every different you
Alas
A dandelion I was
Now withering die
On the airy plains
YOU ARE READING
Words
PoesíaWe write, therefore we are human. The ability to express is what makes humans, human. And we write to express. Therefore, we really are human.
