I put all those thick papers under my table,
I rolled myself on the bed of treble.
I was stupidly lazy to do something better.
Telling myself to do those tiring works later.
I sing songs while jumping on my bed,
I am trying to be serious and remember what they said.
I easily get tired to my ever stern work,
I opened a fine wine while pulling this cork.
I always have a long bored weekend,
It feels like my life is in the nearest freak end.
I can’t even do something better right now,
I always grab my pen and write my feelings down.
My poems are result of my strongest emotion,
Pen and paper always get my attention.
I write poems and not tragedies,
Flawlessly incredible like those serious comedies.
