When I started biting my nails, I realized that I was suffering from wind pains. Most of the time I was silently calling out to you. As I was silent, I was becoming a child, I was a huge man caught between toys. I could not even understand the joy of the kite I missed in the spring when I was fired. That is why it was a lack of feeling that you were left halfway while looking behind the tailless kites with your absence.
One morning when I woke up with the smell of rain, I donated my new poem to the sun to hope for those who were expelled from love, and made a silence to the moon on the night of the same day. The sparkles sparkled as much as they could from the color in my voice.
However, I have always kissed you with the lips of seagulls while looking at the sea. I raised his presence in the dimples of children playing with sand castles on the beach. I wrapped my lemon scented evenings, and even when I was drunk, I put my longings on me so that when I woke up in the morning, I wanted you to smell, my drunkenness.
I put love to sleep at night with a fairy tale, I walked the street like a stray cat, the scavengers woke up from the sidewalks most of the time. I inhaled you with the smell of hot bread, brewed my morning tea with your laughter in my mind. I was homeless, but I was so full of dream of you.
I have a hiccup right now. When the shadow of a cuff is like a whistling pain. It is incense of mourning, whereas living is the rush of a handful of sadness. It was looking through a window without a curtain at the sentences full of silence.
The Mischief of the Youth - Poetry
The night between white clay and blue sadness,
Between the pages of my diary
A child, a fairy tale and time.
My bunk bed, iron wardrobe and two blankets,
Then my boarding window, my dream shelter.
I'm in the places where I was dying, like yesterday,
I stole white bread on one of the boarding school nights.
All I knew was my illegal action.
It looked like an enjoyable gamble.
I can't lie, number three hair didn't suit me at all,
I neither liked math lesson nor did the district clean,
My list of first survivors in the fire was different from everyone else.
It was like a fine detail, our behaviors like understanding each other,
They called our desired behavior training,
After a long time I learned
After a while, people become garbage.
I wish I had a colorful and privileged smile,
For example, her smile is loved by a beautiful woman.
I guess it would be wrong to say I was never loved,
Of course I was loved too, even in a way that I did not deserve.
But one wants to be loved by his beloved,
Otherwise, he cannot dump his own garbage.
I'm like a piece of paper in front of the wind
When you say components, what is collected, are on hand,
I see that I am like a stamps of an out of circulation letter.
I live for once like everyone else,
By raising a love between birth and death.
I connect letters with emotion somewhere in every article,
However, I have a full of repentance.
Oh my endless yesterday's.
And my endless dark letters.
Now I understand that we are two pains borrowing and borrowing from you and one another. We are the toy of our unconscious wishes or those of us who may not be in their right mind. That's why our life has consisted of breathing a clown.
Her deafness increased, love songs, please do not give the decoration of love.
I'm not listening to you!
Love is energy of life.