The plate is clean
Inside the box is only bubble wrap
No popping no hesitation
Screen is blank
Everything has floated away
I shipwreck I floating luggage
The creek dried up indeed
All of that was my feeling
I sense only the surface of myself
Nothing remains inside
Hot wind infront
Cold wind behind
What rope is my rhyme tied to
Without emotion
expression like that creek is dry
An attempt at pretend I ask myself why
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário