Ink And Rhymes: A Teenager Poet's Diary

Song of the City

I sang the song of the city
when a sorrowful gust of wind blew my hair.

I wrote the poems of the city
when I knew I had to bid goodbye this time.

I had known this city of treasure
was going to break my heart forever,
but I still made an effort to be happy
for a moment that's not going to come again ever.

The still grass,
the corn fields,
the faraway street lights during nighttime,
among the beautiful grass covered by the vast sky—
all I could feel was the sorrowful gust of wind
that was waving me down,
while counting the stars in the town.

The trees were sprinting with my feet,
the birds were chirruping with the sound inside my head,
the butterflies were flying with my thoughts,
while the lovely grass was creating rhythm
with the sorrowful gust of wind through my ears,

and it made me sing the song of the city all over again,
while hoping time shall bring me here again.