What a chance to see my words juggling
Like atoms in the atmosphere
All so young and fledging
Skeptical with eyes like a seer
My Thoughts oh they're screaming
Yelling, shouting, shrieking cries they are here...
What a chance to witness my syllables falling
Like loosened leaves of a tree
Lonely pieces drizzling
spotting the canvas like tea
My Thoughts oh they're laughinglike morons, so dear of insanity...
What a chance to discover my craft vanishing
Like silent whispers of a baby
So melodious and disheartening
Tainted blush of an art, oh so crappy
These chances 1,2, 3... counting
With my eyes, frail and misty...
What a chance to unveil such kind of Art
Deviant and Unbecoming
Like my numb and bleeding heart
Pounding, Beating, Throbbing
How I would like to conceal some parts
Of my lonely and sweet remembering,
my thoughts in the clouds
floating, dreaming...
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