The crunch of frost gave way beneath my feet
As the morning sun fought off the stubborn mist...

To breathe in woe and then bemoan the...
Can bring no kind of sympathy or peaceful rest...

When lilies and dahlias
thrived on my grief...

~~~~~
My muses are the furrowed fields...

...I am amputated from reality,
and pain-drenched wailings swim...

the guiness book of
record's spine will break under...

To see the soldiers dance with joy
For they were going home...

pollution and smoke, we
gift our lungs...

Please,
evict me from this utopia...

How can I dream,
Nor even hope...