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Everyday I look through the window.
Everyday the same picture.
The same street.
The same house.
The same three.
But look, there.
Where?
There!
A child.
A little girl with flowers in her hair.
Really, it's not fair!
She looks so happy, so without troubles.
Just with her balloon in her hand.
She let the balloon go.
The balloon flies and flies through the sky.
Higher and higher.
Over the street.
Over the house.
Over the three.
Closer and closer,
by the sun.
Without troubles and free.
The balloon flies.
PANG!
Even a balloon can't live just with happy thoughts.