Things to do

Things to do



In a small city of a small country,
There's a girl.

Every afternoon she goes to school,
Where she can see some factory from the balcony.

In the afternoon, the factory chimneys start to breath,
The light-gray smoke floating on the sky,
The smoke blur all the house-next-door,
Make that area over there look like a foggy small world.

When the sun goes down every day,
The light drop on the cloud,
There are lots of vitamin C-color cloud on the sky,
With lots of shape.

The wind always blows,
The leaves always waves,
The bird sings a good-bye song,
To the big red baloon going down to some child's raising hand.

That girl loves looking around,
She loves closing har eyes to feel,too.
She let her black long hair flying with the wind,
She whispers some old folk song,
And this is happiness.

The smoke keeps flying, don't stop.
The clouds change their color,
Someone paint a violet-color on them,
Peaceful and sad clouds low down,
They are cold.

The city is bright with lights.
The smoke melt to somewhere far away,
The clouds play hide and seek,so hard to find,
The sound of trees and birds dissappeared in the noise of cars.

The girl goes to her class,
With air-conditioner and fans,
And the high-tone voice of her teacher
"Concentrate! Do not let your mind out of the classroom."

Oh, dear.
Her mind's still out there,
Looking for the peacful and beautiful world,
That she cannot see clearly.

With little hope,
Of a child.

.: Sleepy Flower:.