Poem/My house My bedroom has become sleepy My cunning eye steals your gaze
My house
My bedroom has become sleepy
My cunning eye steals your gaze
But my craving fills my soul
Early voice calls me
The sidewalks where the rolling shoes came
The paintings of landscapes are cracked
The white light arrives
On the fat day of greed for one another
Browsing the web with browsing
Of an old child
I feel that my vision is being sent to you
Screaming is shaking my head
In the tear that I love now
Always with your mother smile
And the joy and bitterness of the little toys
Eyesight with white spirit
Hair bled like flower petals
I feel like I'm dreaming that it does not turn me on.
And I like a butterfly following your steps ...
sh.k.
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