I went up, wait no, I woke up.
It's like the stars with an aftertaste.
The build and the break, falling faster.
Racing the passion and finding the meaning.
Like a word search of papers drawing the inspiration.
Communication with the large cables of thought.
Processing and programming from love and hate.
My brain after it's been touched by silence.
Then apprehending the purpose of educating.
Creating sets of groups of people of friends.
Like a person without a rhythm.
A person without a signature.
Elected to be famous and on the road.
Sacrificing the story for a song.
Flames everywhere and stop.
All of a sudden, the sun came out.
A world of hope, the kind flowers.
The green trees whistling.
Those golden apples that shine.
Time to time.
This is how I live.
YOU ARE READING
Poems Of Creatvity And Creation
PoetryPoetry, where it lives "The ones who are trying to define us are the ones that are lost"
