If you meet me in the wheat field
robert burns
This is not home.
You are the shadow of the growing root.
I am used to raising myself in golden dreams.
I practiced landing in your world.
No money, no power, no sex.
Only a clean window is open.
Refracting sunlight flying at low altitude
We became fake models.
A fish with two tails escaped from the net.
No dancing, no singing, no exposure
In this season
We are fit to sit behind the edge.
Fantasy instilled a little alcohol into the world.
If you meet me in the wheat field,
If I meet you in the wheat field,
If we see many children,
Play games in the wheat field
Please smile at each other.
Attitude floats in the wording of life.
We all live in each other's words.