Quietly she rests her head in my bosom
And hums her favorite song sleepily
While I struggle with the ridiculous life.
'Let my tiny cuckoo flies so high
...
After I finished my handicraft
We'll go together full of apples in the basket.
The far away isolated park where a bench is alone since last year.
A year has passed but you are still stuck in the town.
...
Under a street lamp post a beggar reads an old paper in the dim light.
And he showed me a page while I was passing him.
It's an obituary notice with a photograph.
'Papa! Who is this? ' I asked.
...
Each and every deep wrinkle of her sad face
Tells a bygone story about the beauty.
The petals about to fall in the weary Autumn
And the boisterous wind begins its activity.
...
My friend forced me to write a song for him
And he said; ' I'll take a guitar and a flute only.'
I write but who knows whether he accepts or not?
Oil and water in a jar
...
I run fast
Faster than a tortoise.
I dive in the sea
Close to the shore.
...
They refused to take his painting for the Exhibition.
The reason they explained; ' It's a blank canvas.'
Then the painter argued; ' It's titled as Blank life.'
'At least there should be a brush mark then we can accept.' the director of the Art Gallery said.
...
Still I am going to school and nobody sits in the class.
Peeled walls look so sad like an old fresco
And I think of my old friends.
A piece of chalk and the duster
...
There he goes home carrying holey bags full of hopes
After the eternal struggle.
Though it's an express train the kind Engine driver stops at every station as he doesn't want to leave the passengers in the darkness.
But some they do not encourage the delay.
...
I touch the sky and your passing clouds in vain
Because there was no any gratitude shown.
They just hit my peak and run away.
Sun, Moon, Stars and Angels they all mock and pass remarks.
...