August breeze
blowing around
it keep whispering me
November going to be dark
like never been before
because the October
won’t be sweet
like it used to be . . .
Moon light won’t enough
when the sunshine gone
cursing the dark sky
desperately search for light . . .
How many sweet months
spent without knowing its gold
if there is no more sweet months
rest to remind them all . . .
Precious things in life
bad, if we can’t hold
if it slips through fingers
maybe one finger tip away
if hand is not long enough
to hold it tight
it will make a void
in the middle of the heart
will fill with sorrow and regrets
while watching it going away. . .
