Everything grows in the greenhouse, but the price is freedom. Being trapped in a small space, the wings of freedom are peeled off, so the greenhouse begins to suffer. Love is real, but pain is also real.
When will the caged bird be willing to leave the greenhouse? Is it true love, or is it a matter of anger with the world?
"I don't need your rescue."
The growing pains of youth, if you were here, we would cling to each other, hate each other, and finally return to each other's arms exhausted.
"I'm looking for you."
The flame of the match is my sole grand carnival, so burn all yesterday.
Intention: May pain become an old scar