By Kevin Low, Yale-NUS College ’17
A smile that’s wiped off from your face;
An angel which did this from grace.
It’s that which comes after a pride;
A shooting star, a meteorite.
Into traps and on hard times;
Soldiers do this into lines;
Into rhythm with a song;
Into place: plans don’t go wrong.
What night and silence do so well;
When prices drop, more goods will sell;
Rivers pour from the cliff above;
What you do when you trip into love.
Answer will be posted in seven days!