As the sun starts to set
I sat down
with a paper with me and my pen
Staring above the sky
Thinking about many things
As my mind starts to fly
My hand starts writing
On the paper that I’m holding
Figuring out with so many things
Memories of this place
That no one can ever traced
A poem that withholds everything
My world,my thought
Isn’t it it’s so amazing?
Composing themes
that comes from within?
It is about to dim
I guess I need to go
Thank you for my paper and my pen
I created simple piece again for you

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