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Who will come here
During my loneliness,
I sometimes feel,
the fainting sounds of footsteps,
and surprised to hear,
but the next moment,
I think, that who will come to me ?
no one has came here.
my doors would be knocked,
by the blowing air,
that air, which I can't bear more.
My innocent hear,
there is no need to beat fast,
someone would be knocking the door,
of the neighbour,
to distribute the love letter,
which might be posted by his sweetheart.
If you have power, then,
try to separate the butterflies,
badly stitched with the flowers,
they will never be separated,
however, huge and giant trees,
had been fallen down by storms.
Out of our home city,
and beyond the nation,
don't remember for our house,
this disaster of rain,
had certainly broken down it badly.