Sometimes Orange and sometime Blue.

People call the flame is pure!

It's just like the situations we live in

What to call it am not sure!

A young leaf turning yellow.

Hit by the scorching winds and the Sun,

Who does it concern,

I wonder why the soul is mellow!

Like the hands of the clock

Which know not what they are doing but go tick-tok,

Like the changing time, the emotions change

I wonder if it's going to be an infinite stock!