It does not seem fair
that the morning should come
with a yawning sun
shivering in the mist,
and everything is the same way as yesterday.
Yesterday when you ran up to me,
there was summer in every leap;
I burdened by woes, imagined and real,
and see just you, so happy, so alive.
Oh I know,
the flowers over your grave will burst one day
each will be like a message from you,
telling me that this,
this is life; just one; just once.
And the sunshine on the petals will
touch me too,
and for just that one moment,
you will be here again
prancing, dancing, loving life
as I never can.
But right now,
it is not fair.
The sunshine and the birdsong
and I wait my dear cat