• apurav_m 50w


    The shades of trees did hold me once,
    The whistling wind went o'er my head,
    The birds on twigs did sing a song,
    And i did not know their Hmong.

    The flowers I saw which gave a glimmer ,
    The soil which smelled so soothing to me,
    The waters which gave me an arc of hope,
    Told me i was like a mope.

    Half down head like a forest black,
    Held up high like a sunfkower jacked,
    Red to curves like a season rose,
    Was all to give me a heavy doze.

    Now shades did not turn up for me,
    Birds did not now hym for me,
    But she' did now give me a shine
    And hope was now by my affine.