I am doing
Good
For just
A bedroom
Writer

My thoughts are
All outlined with white
Colour
You don’t need to
Worry; they are

Is this life I seek
Is this purity I recall
Is this love I felt
Is this death I ordered
And If i could write them all,

For life will fairly drench and
We will with no option but famousl

Sometimes i feel like
I have done it all
But maybe its not me
Its the silk that’s unwilling
To cover my feet.

I am
Incredibly
Lucky
Check me out
In few years

I still have
Enough fuel
To fill my
Thoughts
Because

O, ye the bright sky summon thee
Before the crimson light forsake n
With the numb cloud morosely still
So does the teardrop– warmish will
Lightening’ a little or with a pi

Many had played this game like a c
A mouse, we once played the game b
Drained and emotionally out of dep
The game hates to differ and knows
Fight for this game and be careles

I wish i was born in the old days,
Greatly about how they look, when
Work with knowledge that makes the
They all have many sense than one
I wish i was an endowed poet then,