Self Notation

in the middle of the rain
my cough evaporated in the cold

cigarette butts fell
from my hands trembling
the tatty table was worn out
the pen melts on your paper
arrange the word to form you
the wind is like a hoarse crow
stormed into the hut of the hut
the spirit of despairing poets
see you writing poems

your poems melt like clogged gullies
which bursts into the streets
chronic cough thickens in air

lover
the path of poetry tired
winding road
who guides you
into the fold of time
the anguish you grasped for years
it's time to find release