°.My Own Poem Book.°

The one who knews

Ow said the peanist.

Ow again.

Poor man...

Plays and plays this woderful melody , the peano got bloody .

And he plays no longer. Finally .

He stands up.

,,i didnt knew. That this word can be so cruel."

Said the peanist.
He gave his best.

The time came.
Again he sat down

And Start to play.

Silence . everybody cries .

Why , said he whitout to get what he had done , looks to the people and got what on his Mind was on.

Oh said he.

Bloody floor . Play's on guitar the guitarist with the ring on the bones.

The pain and hurt , but people smiled and cryed like it was from suffer .

But clapped theyr hands under the Rhythm.

Go on! go on!

Like hungry animals in the concert ,

And we are supposed to be the same race?

That sounded racist tough he , but so was the truth , a duck next to a pig was different.

So was the happiness from pain

Till the end, played group of scandalism in the whole galaxy of humanity race.