He sat among the rest of the vendors with his flowers, they where all he had to sell, he sat not with a cup in his hand but with love on a stem. Each passerby would look but none would partake, his eyes deceived him, his sadness was revealed. Is love deserved even when it’s a little bit. They can light up the darkest of worlds. So I share you with what he wished to share, the love that comes in little flowers when the do appear.
One thought on “Kazan, Russia”