Dandelion

On some evenings 

When I allow myself 

to the garden we made

Dandelions in my feet 

ask me for you.

 

Uninvited they were at first

You remember I hope.

Question to the question I ask,

Why are they still here?

Don't they have to go ?

An abandoned path,

ain't I supposed to follow?

 

Its their job to stay,

smiling at me they say.

They summon spring for me.

They, the reason

for garden's glee.

Their yellow hairs are 

the only beauty in the house

No wonder your image, 

intentionally they forget to count.

They are here to make me have a wish

and hope for it until it dies.

They want me to forget the truth,

to live in illusion if not in lies.

 

So I take one, eyes close,

make a wish if you are here

 

O dandelion! 

what a wasted life we got.

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
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