Unfinished
It's all the seasons,
All the seasons in my world;
Storming all around.
All these thoughts may fill my mind,
But my time is memories.
It might drive me crazy,
Fulfilling all those needs.
And all the seeds of "maybe"
Won't be planted with my greed.
And you'll thank me one day.
Three birds, they told me so:
"Learn from the thorns in your side,
Roses always bloom too slow".
And the room yells "Maybe"!
Surely I'd love to go.
But riding on the winds of maybe,
Surely I'll never know....
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