lifespan… What will happen to people when they know the life expectancy of a personToday I witnessed itA little cold in the rain I thought of deathI wonder if I can cry cold leftOr can we endure not shedding tearsI was scared when I was little ...My parents are goneThe fear I saw to that dreamIf you see that weak parentsWho is it?Someday the death and the unseen world will comeJust thinking out I was already exhaustedWhile watching a father waving his hand to a daughterWhile watching a daughter who swings little handsI was watching the profile of my fatherDrive a car on a narrow roadI ran off my eyes at the back of my eyesRain that does not stop falling as heartlesslyI was driving a car's wiper all the time.Oh, until that time comesI have to be prepared for itWhat is the gene of my father flowing in my body?I was about to tell itThe last living piece of music collapsesUntil the day comes, I firmlyhave to doIt was a big back, my father.Now I feel that back looks smallThe day I have to shoulderBeing one day a day closest to youI must teach this bodyIt was Tosa's skipjack fisherman who was fine with that dayWhile burning my eyes behind my father ... The poet ~ Now person ...
What will happen to people when they know the life expectancy of a personToday I witnessed itA little cold in the rain I thought of deathI wonder if I can cry cold leftOr can we endure not shedding tearsI was scared when I was little ...My parents are goneThe fear I saw to that dreamIf you see that weak parentsWho is it?Someday the death and the unseen world will comeJust thinking out I was already exhaustedWhile watching a father waving his hand to a daughterWhile watching a daughter who swings little handsI was watching the profile of my fatherDrive a car on a narrow roadI ran off my eyes at the back of my eyesRain that does not stop falling as heartlesslyI was driving a car's wiper all the time.Oh, until that time comesI have to be prepared for itWhat is the gene of my father flowing in my body?I was about to tell itThe last living piece of music collapsesUntil the day comes, I firmlyhave to doIt was a big back, my father.Now I feel that back looks smallThe day I have to shoulderBeing one day a day closest to youI must teach this bodyIt was Tosa's skipjack fisherman who was fine with that dayWhile burning my eyes behind my father ... The poet ~ Now person ...