To dear tree, the concrete on the ground, and myself.

Tell me, tell me dear tree
Will my life depend on you soon?
Will i see my life before my eyes under your dry branches that reach the sky?

Tell me, tell me dear ground
Will you embrace my body when i fall
or throw me out like anyone else?

Tell me, myself
Will i ever know when i will shut my eyes?
Say "See you soon" to my old aged parents?

When my feet step on the ground i feel like falling
I can't see the end
Which is harder?
Accepting the past
or looking at the unpredictable future?

When will i hit the ground?
I'm never ready.

Tell me, dear sky.
Will it hurt when i bleed?

Tell me again, myself.
Do you even care?

Do you?

Do i?