The dark rain clouds
and the pitter pater tears of the vast sky
has bringing down the most vulnerable of
my pink cherry blossoms.
Even the bright pink has turning into
a pale pink now.
It is sad, yet sort of tranquil.
Solitude has brought me to the aching of
loosing my good friends into
the war of greed and power.
It is still raining.
And
I am still smiling---
with much politeness
with much never surrendering
heart of pride.
At least if I cannot help the poor,
I would not help the richer
to ruthlessly stepping on the poor.
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