Old house
Nauddin
That shabby hat
It has been worn for many years.
Although that hat
I was also brushed by the wind brush.
But in the end, the grass grew out of the soil.
It sits beside the street every day.
It never said anything to anyone.
It just uses its elusive eyes.
Look at the passers-by
Its face is dim.
It looks blue.
That's because it often hears
Its children
Always nagging it discontentedly