I am still dead, and a bright wild flower grows on my body. Maybe it was nourished by my body. It is bigger and more colorful than other flowers. Another winter, I watched this wild flower survive until other flowers fell, but it only swayed in the wind. Finally, it swayed with the cold wind and fell with the heavy snow. I don't remember how many times this scene happened again. I almost forgot, but my "family" should never forget the day I died, because they could finally get rid of me as a burden and live a happy life.
Intention: Write whatever you want