i wrote a poem half hour before the fourth,
while i was looking at my North.
for you who was sitted at my front,
to you, who wore the colors of old.
while i was wearing blue,
i saw you smile and maybe, that was the cue—
for me to pick up a random pen
and let these stray words to be written.
these ryhmes were too primary,
haha, i am laughing secretly.
someone glanced at this sheet,
oops, my heart raised a bit.
the day is about to end,
so as this petty poem in my head.
few stanzas i think is enough
in here, not a single word is a bluff
time won't slow
on our homes, about to go.
see you again in the shade of rose
or in black and white, i suppose?