Like how we do it every night How we cherish those insects That lights all night long Under the moonstar skies Our feet surrounded with evergreen And cold winds passing through. Their seenly timeless shimmer Hello the outside nights And mute those noisy cricketsWe clap them in our young palms Given it air space. They glow better than constellations Better than our young bright eyes They loll on our heads And candle our shaggy hair They are fireflies They aren't furnace flies I wonder how they do their magic I wonder if the stars and moon sees And yet, not jealous. When they clap their keenly wings Their corn shine, beckon our smile Their pear charm, glows the evergreen Their orange sheen, clad the Grebera Daisy., When the clouds cry The rains knock their bare heads And quench their glow Their wings fall off They tremble on the grounds Like a withered rose There they lie, Unable to rise.
Bae, you’re doing good job. Keep it up.
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