Summer Solstice and other poems

Sunshine

A cold nostalgia
on a gloomy morning
birdsongs weren't pleasing to hear
trees sway in sync
leaves fall down in a blink.
Flowers are still blooming
dandelions are still fascinating.
Red Roses are still bleeding.

What could possibly go wrong this time?
Another day, another pain?
Maybe not.
Everything seems to be just fine.
He always smells like lime.
Just like the usual,
he's very punctual,
who grew tired from your refusal.

He strode the grassy meadow
without hesitation
a little smile on his lips
and flowers on his hands.
Like a daydream
on a sunday afternoon.
Your sunshine
from six feet under.