Sonnet: Broken Dream
Listen to the last breath of this white branch
Once flourished with infinite greens and reds
Even little touch of breeze, he dreads
Unstoppable ticking sucks his blood, blanch
Ruthless gorgeous white sky’s thirst, cannot quench
Tree does not give a damn, even a shred
Next door bright blooming only drives him mad
Odor of buzzing bees and honey, stench
His little dry hands will be broken soon
Hideous skins of his body peel off
His dry mouth cannot bear his throbbing scream
Just wait, period will be marked at noon
Drop, bury with the root after last cough
His flesh grows tree, yet it was not his dream