Shanghai Story

Home, sweet home

Two walls that I can stare

Friends or foes

Something they just can't share

In my own division of the space

I can breathe

Miracles of fame and money

Haunt the breeze

An endless field

Windy Autumn nights

A Fireplace

A fusion of burning hearts

And butterflies

Caught in the traps of snakes

Black snakes

The tube trains like to stamp

Shades, white shades

Protruding from my lamp

In my own division of time

I can breathe

Prisoner of the supreme laws of biology