I’m a Hay
I’m just a hay.
I’m just a poor hay.
I’m just a poor little hay.
I’m a hay that hoping at a wind.
A wind who’s still hoping on a cloud.
It’s wind’s past.
That cloud wasn’t only an ordinary cloud, but it was a part of wind’s life.
I’m staring at the wind.
I’m hoping at the wind.
I’m waiting for the wind.
Conversely, it still staring at the cloud.
It still hoping at the cloud.
And it still waiting for the cloud.
I’m just a hay.
I’m just a poor hay.
I’m just a poor little hay.
I’m hoping I could dissapear along with wind’s gust.
But the fact I’m just a hay, that can only following up the wind’s gust.
I’m just a poor little hay.
