The End of a Book:
Oh my God, no-why?
He was my favorite too.
There isn't a book two! !
School Stop:
What is the point here.
Much work, little sleep, no more.
Stop that, no more work
A Poe Day:
The echoing dark.
The screaching little black birds.
Flying little stars.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
..............I feel the same way at the end of a book....enjoyed...