Away.

The train's leaving, with me or without

I can hear my name being called, but it's a distant shout

A nervous watch on one hand, in every second i was slapped by doubt

A wilting flower on the other, in the end i remain seated with a pout

It'll happen when it happens, & it will happen with its own reasons

Others will evolve & so will you, as we continue to dance with the current season

Another busy day, i can hear the shoes of strangers screeching in their conversations

As i watch the petals of my flowers fall, pieces of me scream melodiously in unison

I need water for my flowers

I need water for this dry soul

Youth wrinkles in thought-filled showers

& not all of us can fit into a fish bowl