https://www.pexels.com/photo/silhouette-photo-of-woman-on-chair-2878452/
Over and over again
Advertisements were posted
In my trunk
The clocks are getting old
The seasons may change
The betel shop that leaned on me
It is still good
Because they are worried that it will fall on their heads
They ripen my fruit
They never matured
It's messy and the information was cut
Let's make a broom
Take refuge in my shadow
They ate my fruit
I also cut off my hands
They work hard
Precious cars
It never stands under me
Tens of thousands of birds rest on a good tree
Now
I was not allowed to build a crow's nest
The betel shop is like my heir
Sometimes
On top of a coconut tree
Only the King of the Moon lives
Maybe someone is tired
When the sun rises
No one looked up at me
I'm about myself
Sometimes I want to stare at the moon.
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