It is a fateless think history that my poems that I wrote are the pencil that I put in the pen after the bracket I know that I'm now a goer of two worlds.
Has a hide hand has been seated at the table and he received the pen as well.
Words out of me.
Sentences carrying me on me.
The most beautiful composition of the universe is only my mind stealing in my mind and stealing from my life, with my life, while I don't leave a lug to anyone.
Love while the colors are the most nil.
Craving while the frustrated clouds.
It is the tranquility that I had his homesickness on a curved road, the giant clipboard I suffered my emotions with the pencil that seduces and hill my emotions with the fastener in my hand, actually a hidden chalkboard in me and to enjoy the taste of my student.
The crate has a hidden chalkboard in the chamber and when I was moved to the lounge, of my mom's rebellion and the ferie as I was in my ear as yesterday.
I have always been proud of being my father's last student, my first teacher was my father while my father.
The color color is written with chalks and draw the chalkboard and the enthusiasm of the enthusiasm is the ceiling and what the student is a feeling of what is an ulvi emotion.
There's a lot to be written here.
I have to draw the top too many people and the disappointments that have stayed at yesterday, most of the black box in me to the automatse of me, the lower post of life is the nuance that every even night is the nuance of the even night, while the religious storm in me.
I am left with a sorrow.
Most of the hopes in the window of the hope and my word I am preparing for a day after writing to him, my words and feelings.
How the crystal chandeliers of my mind are fashionable.
Although I love to be decorated, I love to paint and fart on the day, the most of my heart is the most uninstalled when I fell on my heart, I am a jogging of my feelings as a crashing of the facts that I am on my feelings as the lights such as blinking lights in my world I will find my feelings with my feelings without life and make up my feelings without a make-up of life. With the pen with the pen, I think it is one that; By typing, the illegal is that something will be changed from bad people to change from bad people and will turn into a paradise for all.
There is a great deal of end.
Happiness, on the other hand, is the rematch of my yesterday, which is taken to idling mode.
It's like a crystal ball where my mind and heart cooperate, and here I look at that magic ball and feel myself in a very different realm and happy, but the words are escaping from my violated world, this time I am reporting what is happening and here the firing squad is at work, of course, my head will be cut off soon. and I will leave my body and teleport to another dimension.
My window of hope, which I perch almost every day, every day, of course, I am making preparations from the night, and I am crowned with the words left over from the day that I died, and I am crowned with the words left over from the day that died. When I start walking on thorny paths, this time the balloons in my hand burst one by one and I am dragged into a desolation that I cannot understand.
Mostly people's indifference.
The ones I love the most.
Words and emotions that overflow from my innocuous existence and the diary of being offended, which is sometimes considered contradictory.
Those who cause me to question my sense of belonging, and I belong to this world, although there are many things I stay away from, there are many people, but I believe that I broke that distance with love, and with all my good intentions I just extend my hand with all my purity so that someone can hold it.
What my identity consists of is now in the eyes of people and I define a plane tree, some people are a carnival of feelings that I have protected with my power of faith before, mostly in order to present what is inside me, sometimes the voice over is so dominant that I am assuming that I am absent and this time I burden myself.
In short, a slope that turns into a routine.
I am perhaps the most strange creature of a world where I sway with my humanity and human love before my qualifications.
I ignored the tribute auction.
In every track where my tribute auction feelings are clustered, someone necessarily hurts me.
While I have made it my duty to live with a sincere style due to my nature, most of all, I realize the mistakes I have made with my student identity and never hesitate to apologize.
I flap my wings with sentences.
I feed my soul while pecking words.
When I plant hope, I experience disappointment from time to time.
Most of all, due to the difficulty of finding meaning with meaninglessness and my being a difficult person, maybe I avoid people in general, in any case, I silently whispered into their hearts and ears while I loved, of course, I suffered a lot of torment on his return, and I know this as a virtue.
As the poet said:
“Life has taught me many things:
Hanging tired laundry on the balcony
The freckles dripped from the ends.
Does anyone want to get lost?
That's what I wanted, sir."
