THE BOY…..WHO SANG ME
I saw a voice coming to me
Not running…but can be
If you called him…..
He will come……..
I don’t want the fast shock to stop……
And idont want a start…..
Iwant to know where my tears go….
He can mix happiness with every wall….wvery chair…….every glass of coffee……every silent tone on his table…………..ispent my days behind green rivers……..idont just hold my self……I tried to shake trees…iwalk between long lines to let a pearl swim…not on the surface……my eyes are brown….the only thing that they don’t say…..colors cant say what it means…..by herself it can make an empty lightning that might light ur red heart……….and as much as I lost……I have me…left….listening so close when ur hands r trying to make a smell ……..close to hell….a gray rock who cant be hit by its water….it can be traveled to a bee to make random feelings ……can inside a piano or a girl into a real novel….into a real far world….i just find a feet to step …..and bring a gray picture for his jacket his wreckage….and his journey………..
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