In what a quiet way
you come into me smiling
as if it were spring
I dying
and in what a subtle way
you spilled out on my shirt
all the flowers of April.
Who told you that I was always laughter
never tears?
As if I were the spring
I'm not that wonderful
On the other hand how spiritual
that you present me with a rose
from your best rosebush.
In what a quiet way
you come into me smiling
as if it were spring
I dying.
I dying