Fifty years

Fifty years coming from now,
You will find out,
That blue sky,
And that clear-crystal sea,
All these birds in the sky,
And that seven colors in a rainbow,
The trees,
And the flowers you used to love,
The wind,
And kids' laugh that you used to adore,
Are everything.

And you will regret every time,
You used to ground yourself,                                                       

And busy avoiding yourself,                                                

 Exposed to all these beautiful things once brightened your life,  

Because of little things that bent you,                                         

And you thought your soul are already broken.

Honey,                                                                                                 

I pray one day someone will show you,                                   

That bent and broken has great differences.