Open in the poppy fields I pondered to myself,

if I shall stay to smell the flowers or migrate somewhere else.

It was lonely, so lonely smelling flowers on my own.

If I shall stay, all I will be motionless under a cold, dreadful storm.

As I passed the poppies pondering profusely to myself

I want nothing more than to share what I have felt.

I wish, to not be by myself, in this poppy field forever,

but for now alone I shall be till the chilling, killing open weather.

Twas me alone, alone in the poppy fields, I shall be

Maybe one day I can find another, who is as lonely, or lonelier than me.

I had smelt the poppies one last time, before winter rose.

Eventually I will go back to the poppy fields when winter eventually goes.