What is so special about this flower?
Why a sunflower?
Why does it sometimes feel like the only thing to paint?
In the middle of this cold season
In a place covered in all different shades of blue
Is it my heart’s way of showing its longing for the hazy summer days,
or just my mind craving to see something extraordinary?
Why does looking at it feel like an ice cold night though?
With lots of streetlights and soundless raindrops.
A newspaper,
Ripped papers, scattered memories, forgotten moments.
Alone, surrounded by the yellow petals
Each with a story so mythical
Once it’s dry, it has nothing to tell no more.
And you are left again with your imagination
To tell those words you were never been able to hear.