Sonnet 3

A child was living magic lovely things

Spending nights and days, weeks and years,

No caring fingers won’t fit to those rings,

No dweller felt offensive hurtful tears

The pillow kept a lot of chunks of heart,

The wind received the pretty youth of spring

The loved toys which used to have a mart  

Were spinning many times as they could sing

Now, a little bit stain lives instead

No dream, no happiness like yesterday;

Today the moments, happy thoughts are dead   

Were kept like garbage bag of Saturday

Time goes by so slowly when spirit’s gone

Enjoy this life before you be alone.