People cry - In the mist.

It's like a cloud.

In the red, in the green, through the black.
The traveller is a little young boy.

Ah - #!

It's quiet.

Should I tell him ?
Or should it be me ?

I, think.

The point is to never give up.


You see little boy, Adults are like a woven straw.

They can turn. They can be together.
And do not belong.

I think You yet need to understand :(

He an act.
Naked on body, paint on the wall.
Troubled by the idea
of a man in a black suit
white
tie
and
a moment of
soft

a smile.

In a soft timbre of colors.
She slept.

Same, so same.
People.

In a flat.

Disguised as a joke.
Always.

In a alone.

I am afraid, I can't be
there.

How can a man be.
If he never loved.

What will it be.
Will You cry or scream.

White and Black.

From the other side, I tasted the
long overdue smile.

A simple yet
so difficult feeling.

To be or
not to be.

Word after
word,
after word,

is power.


I do not agree.

A kid. - No one spoke a little.

Sha Sha Shhh.

I want to be like a guy with a green.
Green cloak and the gray hairs.

Sometimes I.
Feel.

Not myself.

Shala lalala la la.

The quiet voice, single hand.

And a ring, that was black.