In the neverland. The broken hearts travel by.
You roll out of bed, and for a moment You can hardly breath.

Is it still.

Am I still talking to You.

When the dreams won't come.
And I will not know why.
Will the silence, be enough.

I try, try
try.

Yet, I can't cause,
you're
gone.

And sad as it is,
I lost a part of myself.

In the neverland of our past.

Roses, Tulips. And me.

And You.

Sleep.

When I would dream with a broken heart.
Seeing the world is the hardest part.

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.