Illusion

If you do not see you do not know
Sometimes there is a wound
Without even being wounded
Sometimes there is a smile
Without even being happy 
If you do not feel you do not know
That when the rose petals fall dawn
They wilt and die like a waterless plant
How the pie in the sky can hurt until your bones
How inner-peace and self love
are the cure for a wilt flower
Because every seed sowed grew up alone
Be the one that does the right choice 

By Maria Moreira