As that gentle wind blows
With teardrops falling from the sky
As life becomes slow
She tries to forget those lies
She looks at that sunflower
It’s ever so bright
And even though it’s cheerful through the day
It closes its petals at night
Its stalk is thin
But it looks so sleek
It sprouts its head up in the air
And it looks at her with a fixed glare
The flower is a burnt orange colour
And it’s not afraid to stand tall
Yet when you look at it
It’s seems like it’s about to fall
But the wind cares for none
No one at all
For as hard as the flower tries
It isn’t able to stand tall
The wreathing winds make way
Leaving the flower fighting for life
The wind isn’t merciful
And eventually, the flower dies
It’s mysterious,
That although the flower could have quit, it still went on
For life is about feeling the pain,
And having the courage to fight on
It’s sad for the flower tried all it could
Yet the wind tore it apart
Several things died with that flower
But what perished most was that young and brave heart.