• I walk down the railroad track;
    never to look back.
    The snowflakes fall from all around;
    And I hear no sound;
    In the center of it all.
    I see red blossom, flying Tall.

    I look down in thought;
    There should be no blossoms in winter time, as I un-pack the lunch I brought.
    The wonderous blossom flys everywhere,
    the frail blossom flys signifecently.
    I look down to the ground,
    and follow the trail I found.
    Blossom was the trail, as I followed it.

    I reach the forest spring,
    With gifts of tide I bring;
    I look down to see a single rose;
    And I wonder why it be;
    For why is a red rose growing in winter time?
    I think and think of what it could be.

    It is possible I realised,
    What had happened of course;
    In this world of poverty,
    hope could change it all.
    The rose represents that hope.
    So I sit and die here;
    my life is at last at rest.