The beauty in what one can do with real money!
But the ugliness they attract...

Away from the ugly truth,
Away from pain of real and suffering of hard...

A world ruined with petals rain
The arid spaces infested with flowers and lakes

A planet coming back to a life to wonder why,
The broken cry of a baby knowing the fight

A space showing a battle between what wrong for you and right for me,
Aliens and human beings, the dead and the alive

I must stay with my aliens, find a way to treat our times
These times given: well.

A tearing mirror, a live act of wisdom,
Another shout at the one who refused to ...

A Universe shattered.

Food for the brain,
Light for the heart to take,
Waste for the rest of it to help down.

A cloudy poem:
A touchy life.
A single terror:
The changing strife.
A leading hour
As the tree has left.
The magical moment
Of latrine romance.
Looking for the blue door
To ask a few things up.
Finding instead ladders
And other steps to walk.
Giving a new blister
To a friend in need.
Walking out in silence,
Knowing I'm just dope...
Another T appliance,
An interview with a rope.

I'm sorry but I don't understand that I am only a loser,
I guess I couldn't understand...

This given hour of powerLoss - powerGain,
I couldn't tell obscurity from fame...

I didn't know lust turning to dust
And dust rising to last in a cloud of crows

This moment of a power-hour
To mean something again.

The heart beat of a friend
To have a long lasting life

Dust rising to make me understand
That feeling sorry isn't the way,

That I should be a Hero, act like a man,
Do something, find a way or get away.

In this moment, sour
Of a loved hour
That's our
Moment of power
And hope
Killed in a forever song
Resurrected with a ****
Long
A sound opening the door
For a second act...
That second act we will all know
As your own,
An owned moment given to react
To a tale's flow
Pact
Made with the devil to stay wrong,
With God to come back to your senses when the bell rung
As you wish
For a third and last song
To be sung, dance
To be danced, ****
To be long
Forgotten in a long hour of hope,
Loved power
Given with a moment of sour rope.