March twenty eight,
A little girl passed away
By a beast inside a man.
Ten thirty seven p.m.
A woman posted an article and said,
The truth is love that we all have had
With anger
With fear
With grief
But still the sanity retained.
I looked out the window at the sunset,
Wondering
Thinking
Understood finally
With the soft breeze fanning my face.
Her sense and Her sensibility
Might be the reason of my obsession
For such long long days.