Another typical bright summer Tuesday,
On the left side of the road, it was my dismay
As we both head north — to bricks you call home
And to bricks no matter, I termed dome
For how long I wish to un-recall
A talk would never bend the wall.

I am not the one who’s standing on thin ice
Moments my heart to explode, I felt the haze
Your palm was covering the west part of your face
Shadows that meant beneath your feet with ease,
Hiding from the sun that has been always in the east.

To whom were your empathy in disguise?
Be one of my achievements — all I asked for
Only to ghost the reflection of good rapport
I never knew you would belong to hundreds I once had;
The revelation I would never be prepared in olympiad
That’s how I conclude during months of my isolation,
One's age does not define one's sophistication.