Death
Nothing i can miss,
i have everything,
the eyes and the head.
But i really lose hope,
when i think about death,
the source of cry.
I can't eat food,
i can't drink at all,
when i think about it.
I remember my friend,
who died in the house,
alone like a rat.
Nothing bad like it,
the fearful law of all,
although we can eat,
and sometimes drink.
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