Puisi | Rest Place

Rest place

Old golden tree in the cornner of my teacher horse

Giving a good sign for my torture hopely not a rose

Ten pairs of branch dancing as the wind blow

And the shine moving with the tempo of leaves flow

Crowded hugging the lonely sinking

Cannot forget the swear my mother wondering

Resign my self and drown offer my thinking

Step by step my sweat was leaking

Thought My self have to be free

 so I went by My self and sit the seat under that tree