Edmund Wong

By The Store

One ordinary night, when you are playing with your fingernail
By the store, my dreary eyes are filled with seldom pleasure,
Of finding alone right before them a hidden treasure,
Proudly in triumph, as many a voracious eye fail
To discover man’s self-effaced worth. Yet let it be,
So selfish me can be your sole company.
But, alack, when finally my eyes are free to see thee,
And ears to hear love’s first symphony,
Thou look away, freely, the heavenly melody desists,
Restoring my ordinary life, where nothingness persists.