Service storm passed away
May this night also dawn like this
It would have been better if the sun hadn't
risen
Hastily rose
Stopping is no longer possible
It is good if the sun is not too hot
Suitable if it rains
Even a small drizzle is enough
The city is crying
Rather than the state itself crying
Writing that the sky also cries
That will fit
A cloud can help poets if they think
Otherwise
The wind has stopped
We disappeared to breathe
The seashells have melted
You have turned our eyes into seashells
Our moon has fallen
Our skies darkened during the day
(Sunburn is another matter)
You can write a lot like this
I didn't expect
The service storm is passed away
Many poets have been produced
When a great man dies
There are many poets
Without surgery without hospital cost
They have a healthy delivery
If other great men die soon
Others will be reborn as poets
What we have in hand
We have nothing at our hand
Great men die and poets are born
*****
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