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 

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Ode to Professor Alan Krueger

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Villanelle: One Step, One Inch