hard labour
New Choice
New Choice
My treasure
needs a hard labour.
The worn-out tools
want me to touch,
Yet my sleep hunts for labour.
Those dreams remain a dream
if I ought not now
chanced to chase.
To make victory mine
little more efforts
might touch the other side of the bank.
These little hurdles in my path
were of my own choices
priorities drown me the poisoned path
Spring is around to make a new choice.
