I am a child, Take a loaf sugar for soon melting in hand.
Stand in the wayside, looking at the crowd come and go. I hope, 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, Then disappeared.