I will create the words as soon as they leave my mouth;
write a pointless poem without any kinda doubt.
I will scatter my thoughts and search the combination.
Whether it's right or wrong is up to my discretion.
Now panic is at my side,
I'm running out of letters!
My mind goes completely blank.
I'm in love with the tenders.
Oh, why did I say that?
It doesn't make any sense!
No other ink to spare,
I should rest all of my pens.
I'll just trust destiny and let my fingers unwind,
for meanings will exist inside a poetic mind.
