I look around the room, sighing.
Feeling the cool evening breeze blowing.
A flower makes a curtsy quietly.
Knowing nothing but my face only.
Starched white sheet, and hard pillow.
The music and light were mellow.
Found a small calendar in corner.
November 16th, nothing happened, nothing new.
It was just an ordinary day.
But today was my last day.
thefinchmagazine.wordpress.com 