Forced to see the other side,
or just attracted by the light,
the sunflower in my heart is
adamant to follow the sunlight.
Waits for the sun every morning,
bids a warm farewell each night,
With a hope in each petal,
it waits for the sunlight.
Wait has its own color,
waiting has its own shade,
but over the time,
the one waiting and waited for
have the same name.
The wait can have its own taste,
which on my tongue melts slowly
the color of the sky,
the game of time,
its a new painting every day.
I have no recollection of what I was waiting for,
I have no recollection of where I came from,
the past that i had so carefully held to my heart,
is now just a dust ball..
I now just wait, I now just ache.