13. A stunned day
In cold winter
There was not clothes becoming me
There is the memory just to shook with.
In a still poor heart
The sunlight that lighted it up was warm …
Of the young child who had a snowball fight sometime
In the snowy parcel which the child threw unintentionally
The pure light nosebleed is red
Why make me cry in this way.
Where did my youth go to
I cannot remember the place where I live in.
In what clashing with countless
I can feel nothing.
Looking at the place left
Doubt me who I am
A piece of a part falls quickly if I try to spend it tap-tap.
To feel tears to my eye
I must go to buy a new part.
