Why all the butterflies roam but are not saying hello?
Why all the bees look so busy as if they have no time to chat?
Maybe they are going home; or maybe I am not that bright enough?
I thought they all love my beautiful petals.
It will be winter soon.
The crown on my head is getting heavy.
My feet can't take it any longer.
My hands wrinkled in cold.
Can they hear my voice?
"Err.. Hello, Mr. Butter-"
"Ah, my sweet Lily is waiting for me", he murmured.
Silence.
"Good morning, Mr. Bee-"
"Oh my dear Queen, I will do anything for you, anything", he hummed.
The autumn breeze conceals my voice.
The bushes hold me like it would never let go.
I look at myself.
Or is it because of these thorns?
