Summer flowers
So vibrant when in season
Yet so dull in winter
A dead, lifeless gray

Thriving in sun
Writhing in cold
Withering in snow
In sunlight, unfold

Up and down
Left and right
A cycle of seasons
No end in sight

They grow
They die
They lived once
They wilt and dry

They're happy
They're sad
They're beautiful
They're drab

Who are these flowers?
Who
But us?

Those who suffer
Suffer
we must

We cycle through seasons
Of growth
And decay

Of happiness
And laughter
That never stay

Who are these flowers?
Who
But us?

These flowers that wither
And whither
They must