I waited forever for August
For the Dahlias that grow
and blossom through hearts.
August after August
I kept on waiting
for the Dahlias to bloom
for the sweet blossom of happiness
to drain away the sorrows
by the hem of its scent.
The waiting felt infinite
as I kept on waiting
because of the promise the Dahlias had made.
But that August never came
in the passing days of my life.
Like a time traveler,
I lived through months and months,
counted days after days,
for the promise to be reborn in the upcoming August.
But they dissipated in Summer.
So, that August never showed up
through the window I looked out of.