You are the taste of a lemon in a book flowing in the middle of no were.

You are a planet hotter than the sun floating around.

You are an animal running faster than you have never seen before hopping around in a wood you have never seen before.

You are a number screaming silently  in the middle of the field.

You are a memory from a cloud far a bit to far from Buxton were it is gloomy with the weather.

You are a flower growing taller than the moon with beautiful colours what you grow in the sky.

You are the end of the line flowing in the sky.