The flowers bloom with fears,
'cause the soil fertilized by tears.
But there's a fire that dried the cries,
of every pollen that really tries.
The rain comes to free,
every roots start to spree.
A new seeds sprout,
Away from the drought.
There is water,
there is fertilizer,
letting it hear the sound of flute
and bear abundance of fruit.
The leaves start to sprawl,
The twigs continue to crawl.
The sun smiles from the blue sky,
But why is it just a bonsai?
