A drunk man once asked me
Do you write?
And I was like yeah
I can put words together,
He looked at the cup he was holdin

How will love be glad on autumns r
love divine and love refined, love
love inclined, love infinite and l
love’s regard and love on guard, f
love as cold like a morning’s brea

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

There are many
Means of writing
Mostly
In caves.

Morning by days not less or late
Her heart flutters and fail’d to b
I tossed her arms up and down,
Her arms dare to stay and it drop’
Her lips was wide, curve while her

It will not make you rich
It doesn’t mean that you are speci
There are no extra powers
Only an effort will do
And you will never stop

How deep
Can love
Swim
Or
How

poetry in my bones, just a little
plenty in my bones, it burns and
burns even when i try cleanse away
creativity in my bones,
i have love for other things;

I can play
Different roles
But there have
To be no rules
Or tears because

As i have reached the town,
The town which i thought never exi
The town; where two blocks are dro
The town; where more stoned-houses
And astonish sights of lands, lake