I dedicate this poem to Mameha:
My life is trapped
There is only transparency
No real living
No really emotion
Just surviving
Like a cherry blossom
Life does not last forever
And thank the gods it does not
My luscious youthful face
The moistened red lips
The smooth and powerful silk
The illusion of human nature
Beauty is less than that of worthless
For in the end
Neither the idea nor the possessor wins
Seasons come, years go
The days lob into each other
The blossoming of a cherry passes
The wilting begins
When the cold snow blows
It is the end
I have had my blossom
My prime
My pride
Now I am having my wilt
My winter
My death
Nay, spring comes again
New life
A new blossom
And the old one
A memory
A/N- ok everyone, there is ONE count 'em ONE person left. And that will be, the very starter of this novel- sayuri's father. He will be the final one.