*



Pick up a fruit, which broken lies
underneath the path you walk upon
frozen, it still shivers, molested, it dies
why does your face shrivel and wan?

Is my hand not gentle towards your skin?
Holding what is rare from gentleness within?
May I ever taste you, as sweet, as you once were?

Time, let no one grow, past flowers and snow
let them see, what once was born, let them sow
a seed with longing and a life to spare
how else could anyone know - if we really care?