She is sitting with the phone in her hand,
Morning pearly tears are dropping, without noticing it,
It’s been three days.
There has been a death in the next door,
The neighbor wife’s hysterically screech for losing her husband in the unplanned war,
Between the southern Thai’s villagers and their conspirational enemies,
Only God knows what she felt at the moment.
Petrified by the scream of the broken heart,
Suddenly, the phone in her hand rings a melancholy tone,
A simple greet is the only thing that she can say,
The gloomy morning's silent is broken by the soft sobs.
Again her lustrous tears drop, but this time as fast as a creek.
She will cook her best for the dinner tonight.
Because he’ll be home to enjoy the new rice.