The Days When the Flowers Bloomed

We wasted too much of our youth.

It was a youth so full of twists and turns,

and so utterly wretched.

There was laughter, and there were tears.

There was sweetness, and there was recklessness.

There was confidence, and there was confusion.

We stubbornly pretended to be strong to the very end.

We chased the joy of striving,

yet lost ourselves in the beauty of loneliness.

We believed we could rewrite our fate.

We believed the world would change because of us.

Then we woke up to the fact that we were no longer young,

and that perhaps our futures were no longer limitless.

Once, in a fleeting moment,

we all thought we had grown up.

But one day, we finally understood

that growing up meant more than desire.

It also meant courage, responsibility, strength,

and a certain necessary sacrifice.

In the face of life, we are all still children.

Truthfully, we never grew up.

We still don't understand love or being loved.

Our thoughts are muddled, vague, and confused,

like kites drifting through the sky.

I don't know what I've done.

I don't know anything at all,

yet my heart always aches.

My heart is always burdened with one thing or another.

Perhaps one day,

I'll drift away on the wind like a kite with a broken string,

leaving behind

only a lonely silhouette.