My Lost

June 10, 2011
Life is a sinful pain
No sensory, memory is slain
Soul rotten beneath shallow hole
Hell, is burning the wrong soul.

What I have lost is bigger than most
It ‘s so precious more valuable than gold
Couldn’t be sold in the market couldn’t be fold
Too beautiful younger than old.

Spring is here to revive
Seedlings sprung blissfully
Peace silently show
How, breeze gradually blow

Oh dear please quiet thy tears
Cease the groan that lurks
Steadfast and set aside thy fears
Courage shall make thee bark

Writing makes me smart
Knowing feels like a river flowing
As I grow my sights broaden
I sense something is rotten

Now I must end with despair
And never will I whisper
Nor print an ink on paper
For I, am as angry as a leopard

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