I write this line –
"The wolf of matera, loner",
I cross myself
And write " goes to friends".

Starting ahead –
"The wolf is not sitting",
Adding a few lines,
It turns out the poem:

"The wolf is not sitting,
Tearing the hair on his chest,
Attaches them to the feet
And he goes to his friends".

The result of such fantasies –
Wolf life is more diverse.
The result of the poem –
Neural network with training.

seed:the playwrite's thought,
director prepared the field;
actor's sowing act!

Have you ever prepared
for something so hard
that has not happened
yet,
but your mind
spread a web
like a google map,
the questionnaire is set
possible answers are met,
with your infinite
shining white,
paper sheet.
You are ready
to confront that
unknown fate
in your head.
And when that minute
appears
and you are confident
and brave
to utter
your absolute
prudence
you meet
a silence.
No questions asked
No answers followed
and you stand dumbstruck
to feel wasted.
All this while
you were prepping
to meet the "One"
Silence.

They never tell you when the rain comes-
They can tell you to prepare for it,
but when it hits, the rain just pours.
And you never know when
the storm is gonna hit

Time is quiet, but deadly,
Pushing us all.
Neither angry or friendly,
A universal wall.
Converting future to past.
The present a thin line.
No moment can last.
Everything will decline
Into history's arms.
It takes it all.
It gives no alarms,
nor listens to our call.
It has death on its right,
And regrets on its left.
Act now with foresight,
Prepare for its theft.

She is not thriving in the fancy place
but she grow up with the fertile mind
Other people think like she is in prison
But she feels like in mansion

She grow up and feel comfy
Stuck in her own routine
Doesn't makes her feel unlucky

No one can judge her, she doesn't care
She will prove it someday
What she's been prepare.