Statue

A hollow statue that broke, a poem of loss. Of what, who knows but of the one who wonders

In the garden I used to stand,
Admist the rain,
Admist the snow,
Standing amongst the flowers that grew,
In the seemingly endless moon.

Hollow I was,
But never knew,
My joy belonging to the sun and moon.

One day I fell,
And from my head came,
The growing rain,
That fell in my smile,
And still,
The flowers grew,
Higher and higher to the moon.