Roses aren't red even violets aren't blue.
They become a different colour
depends on how I want them to.
In a good day they are
shades of pinks and mauves.
When the seasons change
or the moods kinda switch
my roses turn into a cold winter snow.
Kinda waiting at the window for y'all
to bloom and make me mellow.
Might be blurry but I guess
that's how we always do.
I thought you can stay while
I'm having a cup of tea...
...but I suddenly remember
there is nothing infinite
about anything we could ever be.
Well, nothing is perfect
We wander and wonder...
... still there is nothing.
and WE are NOTHING...
so now, does it make us PERFECT?
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