There was this story, this little poem in my head ... about the beauty of naure
The words were forming a flower.
The sentences were smelling so sweet.
The letters were glowing in colours.
The impact was so deep.
I took the pencil,
Ready to write,
The head becomes empty
The try to remember – a fight!
But the smell is still there,
The colours shining so bright
I just keep the feeling of knowing
And forget about the fight.