A broken branch fell into my hand one day, I planted it in the garden, I saw that it gave leaves and flowers, I cant see it, it sits speechless, its heart is a piece of cloth, that broken branch, the
red flower is as red as the anemone, its leaves are like the feathers of birds
in love / But what a pity that it is a prisoner in the garden / In the soil, it is as if it is screaming at me, with honesty like a clean mirror, it does not know that I am a I am a prisoner, tired of the bad accident, I am sitting in the way, come and hold my hand in the gardens, they will be in the gardens, they will pick the flowers of my tears, stay with me, stay with me, the fabric will set
me on fire, the sadness of loneliness, this cute branch , that breaking, which was once a memory, this story of long nights will be floundering, but what a pity that the prisoner is in the garden / in the soil, as if he is screaming at me, with honesty, like a mirror Clean
