Memories.Now and Then...

In the golden sun, Under a dogwood tree. I see a flower waiting for me, A flower that will listen, When everyone else decides not to.

Since a flower has no opinions, You are free to empty your soul out to it. All of your anger and sorrow, Is now wrapped up in it.

That is when the flower transforms, To a memory instead of a flower. And that's when you remove each petal and let them fly into the wind, To go back to where they belong.

So the memory dies with also the flower, And you may once truly live again.