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Here, Next to Me
March 14, 2019
The breeze going through my face, between you and I, it was a race. Either the wind or my power, being the fault of my flower.
It was the color yellow,
located in the middle of a meadow.
Its simplicity and beauty,
it was a death duty:
between the wind and I,
but I did not want no tie.
I wanted to win,
in difference for it wanting to sin.
And as the wind wanted to get her off here, I wanted to have her here,
next to me.
© Lydia N., Greenfield, IN
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