12 september 2014
In search of hope
I was writing a poem
I don’t know, what am I going to write?
Feeling tired.
But a poem was to write.
I looked at the window with weary eyes;
The curtain
was blocking to lighten to the room.
I saw the rays coming to me from the curtain’s tiny hole,
'This is my hope' and I wrote a poem.
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