Flowers
On that misty day,
The flowers lay in the misty garden,
But all you could see in the garden was bright colours.
Red, yellow, purple and orange,
But the brightest was the crimson red.
They shone brighter than the bright stars in the night sky.
As the mist was about the wind spun around them,
They danced frantically in the wind,
Their petals were falling off the stem.
The flowers shouted, "Come play with us!"
But little do they know soon it will all be over,
They are in grave danger,
Some kid will come and make its light fade,
To an end.
