It"s a fine day / by J. Mijung
I wrote my loneliness on a paper,
and then I folded the paper down to the size of an eraser.
It seemed to be small and matching my dwindled sadness
After that, I completely forgot about it,
and in the afternoon, somehow, I couldn"t find it anywhere
It is not on the desk
It is not on the chair
Even in the drawer are only graves of dust
Likewise to an eraser,
the sadness could have also disappeared, somewhere
It"s a fine day that just cleared up the tears from the sky
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