The moment you heard the bad news, you will stunned. Nothing else but shocked and down. You may go hyper, you may go blue. Most of all, you may not be you. Here goes the first day. Gloomy, a coat on your heart. Putting everything to one side, to fix your broken heart. There comes the second day. Being yourself, lifted up with a smile. But somewhere in your heart, tearing apart. An opportunity indeed, to produce a piece of writing. Where you put in the feelings, touches one's heart. On the third day, everything is fine and clear. For you no longer tearing, but able to cheer. However, things are still popping, somewhere in your head. Taking you, to where the memories are stored. Four, is the number of death. Sorrow has died away. The lake in your heart is now cool and calm. Not heartache, nor depression. Winter is gone, for now. Awaiting for the spring to come, somehow, some day.
