A Short Poem
Say, a brighter star shines down for everyone who looks up and dream;
may stumble upon God's secret, yes, we shall look up every now and then.
As conscience grows trapped inside a body decaying of age,
But if not for the sun that shines where would days be?
Then the nights would wrap up the differences created in daylight,
Sleep would crawl in the bedrooms among heads slowly dozing
and the thief would scratch window sills, knock and whisper,
'Life runs fast, I am doing the best I can