November Snow Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

November snow

Piece of rag on swing; tied to rope, to tree
And, she went to sky; as if she, was cloud
Lovely was my sister; now is dead is over
So sad her departure, life's bad; is sun-less
I cried as she went; to a world of madness
"Life is nice; mean's taking; that's unjust"
I miss her kind smiles, lonely I in darkness.
I'm ready to go die; if sure that, I meet her
She was as first snow; trying touch-and-go
Soon white roofs were cleaned with a blow.