Wary or worry
Series of cough all night
To go to a city
To buy some fruits
Earlier in my town
A slave is a seller
Sitting beside an old woman
That her face is dried out by years
And my son whispered
Setting his flag up
Buses come delivering high horns
And I wait
Looking to the sun,
While dark clouds moved down
Wrapping the sun and street
But my coat yet seemed white