I am a child,
Hurting, but no one loves.
Take a loaf sugar for soon melting in hand.
Stand in the wayside,
looking at the crowd come and go.
a warm hand is tight and tight to hold tight me.
Pulling me cuts through the crowd,
walking into a place for only having grass with fresh flowers.
Smile me immediately after.
I smiled, but still stands in the wayside,
The loaf sugar in the hand makes the small hand the again dirty gluing again.
That hands can't appear.
I throw away the loaf sugar,
runs into the crowd myself,