he is like a bud that felt
burned by the sun

afraid of the future
in misconception that it exists

he has never lernt how to swim
and sunk deep down a while

he always chooses the sad side of a day
the sad side of beauty
like me

I would draw him a Greening tree if he asked
it would be wide
to cool the fever of the burning sun
it would be high
so as nobody could reach it's fruits