The Songwriter

12PM, you are looking at the ceiling hoping for a sky view for creating stories from the shapes of the clouds. But, now let these strains on your old ceiling tell you the story about the songwriter that you adore. The boy who hates his face, knitting the words so beautiful. Once falling in love, knitting the feeling so beautiful. Once brokenhearted, knitting the tears so beautiful. The boy that you watch from the lyrics, the boy that (somehow) you worry from the lyrics. The boy who may forget you, but now you knitting the words for him, though not as beautiful as his, though never gonna be read by him. Now the evening comes, bet that clouds are turned to be a white-sprinkled black layer. A time for going outside to let them make another story for you. Hopefully, a happy one. A new one.

(Nov 2020)