A season
has grown
in the room,
and a man
has sold
his body
in the cold silence
lamenting loneliness,
listen to the conversation
which looks like a shadow.
From outside the window
he saw the seasons about to change.
A sparrow is chirping there
welcome the mating season
coming soon.
Lovers
sit opposite
while kissing
on the park bench
let go of longing
away from the hustle
and bustle crowd.
Falling leaves in the courtyard fall scattered like joy
free from branches.
Maybe the time has come
he left the door
from all affection
the former.
A piece of paper he wrote
and a hanging note at the door.

"Which you have left here, you shouldn't have taken it out later."