Flowers Are Periscopes

I trained myself so I can move like swimming underground. Closed my eyes, they're no use. Navigating by the sound of footsteps overhead. I tell myself that the sunshine's not that great. Sometimes I think I'm lying, but don't confront myself. I'm afraid; what if I have wasted all these lonely years? Now I miss my friends, miss my family and fresh air. Sometimes I have been known to spend whole days staring at the world up there. Flowers are periscopes, peering up through waves of grass.