Dandelions drift in the hot summer wind,
Leaving a potent trail of nostalgia in their wake,
Thoughts of what could have been fill my mind,
And I wished that risk I did not take,
It was a foolish choice to leap that day,
Off the steep cliff and into the inviting bay,
For perhaps if I hadn't, I might still be able,
To pluck a floating fairy out of the air,
Interrupting its graceful dance,
And I might have been able,
To blow it into the sky, and make a wish,
A wish to live,
But the dandelion seed continues its dance as I knew it would,
For I am dead,
And can only foolishly wish for life,
As floating flowers pass me by,
But how could I have known my life would end that day?
That the clear, sparkling water flowed over sharp rocks,
How could I have known,
That a leap would end with me trying to wish,
On wish granting fairies?
