Is it life as great as the concrete among our cities?
just a mere lack of success when you need to rest,
is it hues a grey nod running sore, rumming sole?
light was in a bulb but get's obscure almost black hole,
must a per capita word to sign our souls...
sin a move to what's right only in instants of faults,
exist like this make you believe in yourself, non else,
scripts sometimes needs to experiment change.
Is it life as silver as the metal under your vehicle?
dark inside, although out us, plain sicles to go on,
bright isn't a seal for shades, not an symbol by tickles,
sight neither remains, either stay going forward son,
slight at mid goes wrong if you waits cum sickle...
recycle your own thoughs, perhaps unwanted phone,
get the tone and colour of marrow bones trickle;
it is so very fun, I am adjust to be me, sun.
Is it son cum grace,
isn't sore tune phrase?
it send sole sun trace,
e sin some doom lace san
Sole a writer with a project at the gates of heaven, long time ago was a student, but, I can't remember what, where, when or how I forgot to learn some new things.... full info