POEM
Memory is counted.
Fake love is armful.
Gone days are ugliest.
Gone beauty is eternalied with art.
Gone is love that is true or false.
I don’t know meaning of love.
I am in another universe to keep distance with fake and dishonest people.
I am not connected to you to count the fake love.
I am the single figure to walk in long journey of life.
Gone days are unendurable. Scientists are fake to make virus.
They are void to name ugliest.
They are not talent to judge and name virus.
Gone days are not memorable.
