I did not know words to say,
I did not fight on the fronts, with the media.
With the flowers next to my bed,
I was greatly breeding poets!
Paintings with colored tapestries
I was the background - stuffing of hearts,
and scattered on our pollen
to pieces the letters - feathers.
I struck them instead of a flower in a vase,
and I brought them back to the wild,
but your songs to one I will keep
as a distant memory alive!
Goodbye and Kisses ...
