The day was so promising.
First train, second train, third train-
The work of the day was nothing breaking;
The stressing, bustling faces blank or smiling;
There’s no way we could’ve ever known
These final moments were quietly fleeting.
Everything was calm and normal,
Beneath it hidden was terror, pain and ailing.
I woke up March 9 waiting for March 10.
As always the new days would come,
Yet that day never came
And the plans I made.
The little world stopped
And I regret being happy that it did.
The emptiness and meaninglessness
Spelled the blank days for too long.
I miss those small moments of happiness:
The great rush of every morning,
The mellow calm of every night,
Every small sadness and smile;
I miss every precious raindrop.
Faces I wish to remember-
Those days are all slipping;
Memories so precious for the first time,
Why did it have to end abruptly?
These days are truly empty;
Damaged method, unraveling healing;
I've lived the despairing melancholy repeatedly.
I wish I would've done more
With the blessed time that I didn't realize.
I regret being shy and afraid
For the next day never came.
I’m afraid to lose this wonderful memory;
I’m afraid of this new fear in these weary days.
The world is in fear and hurt so undeserving.
How will we all be given our lives back?
March 9: one year has passed so disheartening.
Is there a light to grasp now? Is it hope we lack?
One day, this will become the chapter fleeting!
I still remember every precious raindrop,
Although faintly grasping-
The memories remain and the next new day
Comes closer beyond every broken teardrop.
There’s still hope that remains,
We will see each other again that new day...