I wish I can be flowers on my neighbours’ porch,
I do not even know their names,
I do not know if King Philip came over for good soup,
I know that I can tell their colors,
I supposed I am not colorblind,
Even if I am, I think they are pretty,
I want to be pretty than beautiful,
As ungrateful as I can be.
I am obsessed with the flowers on my neighbours’ porch or porches,
But I am sure I do not have Porsche,
I make diary about them flowers,
Again, despite I have no idea about their names,
I will pretend that I know and familiar with Magnolias,
I might not know their names and am too shy to ask,
Hence I took pictures of them and name them inside of my head: Jenny, Lisa, and Cassandra,
I am so obsessed with them,
I even think dandelions are cool and not just random weed growing by the avenue,
Clean and innocent white,
Funny yet puffy lavenders that are not what they seem,
You must now think that I am drunk or what even the drugs I am on?
I am just wondering if they miss me too,
Just like they miss the day when it was sunny and bright instead of misty and foggy,
The flowers are forever dear in my heart,
Majestic and beautiful, actually just like you...