Time blew away without a trace young years in a blast...
I keep the calendar same way, like memory of past,
Reminding me of my childhood, hanged on the wall by nail,
Though count diminished of left days in my life story tale.
Pulled out days can't be replaced, can't be relived again,
So few red colors were in them, so much black ink of pain.
Someday I'll part with you for good, for someone else to care,
Without me to celebrate the eve of next New Year.
