It’s 2 P.M.
The heat outside being intolerable,
And the tears uncontrollable.
With a trembling hand, swollen eyes and a deep aching heart, I began to write.
Silence is what surrounds me and thoughts are being crumbled like a paper.
With listless eyes I look around.
What should I write?
A paragraph, a story, a poem?
What will comfort me?
With a whole lot of effort I put down my pen to write,
And the paper stays just the way I feel,