Sunday, March 22, 2009 10:55 pm
in one hour, it'll be the next day,
and it'll be the first day of term2.
and you know, there are many changes to be made.
and a lot of effort and discipline will be the needed.
anyway talking about that. i found a scrap of paper
with another poem on it. wrote it during maths.
Time
It still seems dark,
but somewhere the sun has risen.
A bank has opened,
and it's the beginning of a new day.
Everyone gets an equal share,
a regular supply of indefinite gold,
one of intangible currency;
till Reaper knocks on your door
when you're really old.
Sometimes we pay gold unknowingly,
be it sleeping or procrastinating,
but like all responsible people would feel,
money can always be well spent.
As it passes,
things can grow
and surely die;
rivers will flow
and birds, fly.
The bank gives to everyone
neither dollars nor dimes,
but Father time.