Death of 2017

Death of 2017 fireworks stories

handsameu Blade is my pen, blood is my ink
Autoplay OFF   •   2 years ago
The dead year was given birth by this dead writer.

Death of 2017

Number eight replaced number seven,

Fire crackers are exploding on heaven,

But you're still the fire that makes me wanna fly,

One who shows glows and colors of the dark sky.

All jump and shout as the clock strikes twelve eve;

My heart hops and beats, each second, your name.

Please let the pages of those numbers leave,

And increase the endless story we aim.

Not sticky as a tikoy but glued on me,

I can say that you're too much, I am lucky.

You're not circular yet a precious charm,

Though makes my lips curve, I'm away from harm.

Wanna look your eyes reflecting at night,

Kiss your hand and face, the most gorgeous sight,

Under the bunch of clouds which sparks it rains,

Then whispers,“all change but my love remains".

Thank you for reading ladies and gentlemen.

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