As I lay here in this grass,
I wonder if you think of me
kindly.
Sometimes my map is a blank
sheet of parchment,
And my chain of keys fits no
door.
As I lay here in this grass,
my eyes overflow with salty
tears.
My arms reach for the stars,
My hopes and my dreams.
But I cannot reach.
As I lay here in this grass,
My world tumbles and is a
great mess.
Wherefore hast thou gone,
To causeth thee to disappear
when I needed thou most?
