For Nothing

All these plants I've watered and served to god

Named one by one by their color, or by their loved one

Still they called weed by the people who think it's weak

Just to be diverse in this casually flowing days

Though I'm different enough in my hollow skin

Roots of my memories, getting forgotten as they got dissected

Yet burning fire shows its birthplace by the sun 

Criticise my paths after I melt, just so you don't get last

The fisherman from the seaside country understands my interests