No dews on the grass
No sky purple
No delightful notes in the air
Only zooming down
My father picked up the journal
Massacre, explosion, ****, theft,
He whispered instead of good morning
Inside the room
Mr. Mrs. Miss.,
Gave us bed tea
Who opened TV? Mother?
It doesn't matter
They are bound
Job well done
Days have undergone upheaval
Morning is dirge
Oh! Modern century
Torn apart wings
Notes (optional)