Whatever turns to whenever after paint is applied to the heart. Can eyes really mentor coulors that seek a place suitable for art.

I want to change a plain season by repeating history so my tales can be "twice upon a time", I have an invisible mountain to climb...perfect moments leave trails of emotions in sync, I followed my heart when it was taller and bigger than me.
l could only follow without any sight of what is afar because my heart was too soft  to run into obstacle.

I could only follow without any sight of what is afar because my heart was too soft  to run into obstacle. At some very sharp and sad point my heart hardened and that's were I saw "forever" and "one last time" holding hands.

I want to win a plain season because nothing fades.

I love  rain, I love It when it's dearly expected I love it because It is not driven by fear nor biased, it hits every object, truthful to its nature, it takes charge and lets us know when it's in town...with such cool humbleness.  
I love it, I just love it because it has a smell  
Of a fresh start, how coulors introduce their mild brightness in the presence of clouds. How I wish for it to read me a bedtime story...a story with only one word, "drop" .
A very simple and subtle way of showing us that the only cry that's destructive is the one with thunderous words.
Rain smells like victory when there is some gingerly blowing wind, I love rain because it cannot apologize for getting us wet, yet we are still upset, upset with some evident wetness of the meeting. I love it because it falls so hard, so deep...only to multiply.
I wonder if the distance  between the clouds and the ground ever changes or is it fixed like the distance between H to O.
The spirit of oxygen...how alive can it keep this liquid? How poetic to see tiny little droplets on a leaf of a tree.
The droplets in formation as I look out the window, poetry has no form  
And nature has the smooth audacity to prove that.

No matter how strong you are one cannot simply out-muscle or out-shine a mad man who has great taste in fashion.  
A.M.G. Is the ultimate hooligan it doesn't have to take charge to prove it's tenacity because it's a presidential sedan that puts you in charge.
No need for a spooky entrance because sometimes demons want to dwell were there is brute force.
I miss the 6.2 litre engine, it is the intrinsic Moto of Mercedes," A big engine for the perfect gentlemen".
Cruising luxuriously has no peak when it comes to un-doubtable comfort and well established elegance.  With a classic loud noise one can't but wonder if the barbarian needs marketing.
An angry gentlemen with a smile on his face that never lacks in pace doesn't need frenetic footwork, the gentlemen goes straight to the point  and why wobble on about a winding route when Mercedes automatically includes you in elite circles. Quality that exceeds all levels of maturity, Mercedes keeps getting younger and wiser!
The phrase "numbers don't lie" insinuates that alphabets do lie. Really? How? When their associated with such class...A-class, B-class, C-class, E-class, G-class, S-class and so on. I think the numbers cliche is a turn-off.
Pleasure always mixes with business when it comes to a Benz.

What you think will pull you off-course is the reason why speed is our cause a modern pony that encourages us to brag...gravity is proud to have pressed it on our floors, it's identity is what it truly stores.

Never dragged by the generation of emoji's, Ferrari has inhabited another planet of emotions.Why race because When you see our tail lights you always talk about making some "minor" adjustments on your supercars and we understand because a tragedy always seems reversible before the pain sinks in.  Going as fast as Predicting the future in terms of technology maybe the most foolish thing a person can do because when the time comes it would be an understatement to say "the future that never happened". But because in the future those predictions look so retro, what you would say is "the past that never happened". Now that's what I call A drawback, should we just wait and see? but with Ferrari we certainly know what it's gonna be....TWELVE cylinders in a V.
A car I would appreciate on a cloudy day, put on  some good perfume.Who needs a radio when there's 950 horses screaming in tune...LA FERRARI!. When you switch off the engine, the marvelous horse always whispers "I won't get rusty".
The epitome of Italian sports cars...a shiny  horse that represents the beauty in power. No need to fight for dominance because ferrari is the essential formula in 1, legendary drivers found a safe home in its heart. Always overcomes an opposing force with finesse...what a mighty horse, Ferrari comforts your thoughts on a highway.

So then the horse still looks forward with it's uninterrupted youthful pose. I will always!!! Remember the horse.

When that t-shirt was not bright white
As you tried to explain what you said is tangled.
With some sense of an epiphany, I thought it was a fight.
You were utterly dismantled.

You said you fell of a chair while clinging to a bottle of wine
I noticed a fake smile so unlike your imaginary party mates I had  something to fear. Your shoes looked like they embraced a ***** mile. A broken watch like you would never serve time...i sense a very terrible crime.  "stop saying everything is fine".  I screamed to abuse your ear drums that would never be accepted by any band...in my life you are banned, there is nothing musical about this but fingers couldn't stop taping the edge of the table....you were not stable.
When I looked into your eyes they seemed like they focused on an object that's coming with high velocity
Whatever is coming doesn't look pretty from eyes that refrain from lubricating. Your shirt was filled with red stains and your hopeless eyes started revealing red veins but everything is okay? No sign of tar even when looking far there's clearly no way

The moment I could confirm that you did a crime was when  the officer kicked down the door and said, "you all mine".

A car that never changes character.
A master in going against the times.
Its high raving engine proves it's nothing close to an armature.
The legendary kidney grill never declines.
Ounce I heard that the iconic M5 is now  available in x-drive, my face resembled a wet cloth but as I finished reading the article...thank god there's a setting for the tyre shredding two-wheel drive.
BMW is a car that gives you a reason to stare, BMW lovers recognise the different models by looking at the linings...something rare.
BMW's so called rivals are always claiming they have"high tech suspension", but that's only on paper then the track testing starts. That makes you wonder how much do two faced women spend on makeup.
While other motor brands have "ambition", BMW has reputation. Its rivals are stiff in corners but the Bavarian beast simply drifts... Into position, clearly spelling out two words "no competition".
BMW doesn't exactly showcase the skills of a driver, it actually displays the behavior of the car...call that ecstasy in motion, the real capture of emotion...nothing has ever been so close to perfection.
The roaring power produces a sound that is distinct, out classing a band that is full equipped. A luxury sedan that is rated five star but deep inside it is a sports car at heart. The kidney grill ensures us that even in a hundred years from a hundred metres we will have no trouble recognising a BMW.
Something we may never measures is shear driving pleasure. The only drive that BMW knows is dynamic and although the average folk might not be interested in the track runs which are always epic, he or she knows that BMW is the perfect remedy for traffic.  
Ambition is BMW versus reality.

Cloudy as if the sky was filled with deformed marshmallows, that's when you told me it's the perfect weather. before I grew who knew I would be part of that crew that figuratively flew. Highly excited we really were, exaggeration of thoughts stuffed in me when I spontaneously laughed with hands on my chest  because I was cuffed by the high. That feeling was surely one of the best I ever had but I never was prepared for the days that defined Crockett. The substance created the ability to fully focus on a subject made it seem like the substance offered intelligence, with a sigh I never knew it was a lie before I wrote patterns that blew my high. Started as an occasional preference which came with memorable moments later turned to cliches when my lips constantly clamped joints which were on point. From a normal state to euphoria, I assure you I was very far from you. With time, stepping away from the herb just caused depression but I just missed a feeling of another dimension, in deep presence it's just detention. Open field is a fantasy that had been experienced before my eyes pealed to the cage, can the fantasy be restored? My soul is aching every second of the day. Life of a dreaming stoner...wish I could be crushed down to sand so I can snip through any slightly open way, the desire to blend as I glance at the future and a ask if there is any chance? The only  thing that is getting shorter is my wingspan.
Pain becomes food for my heart and joy is scarce like sharpened objects that are confiscated. Thoughts are very dismal, these are thoughts of a prisoner. Soaked so much my personality faded...i don't recognize myself anymore, it's like some RANDOM guy came forth. Life gets harder than nods which I need to hang on these slippery rods. Patience drawn to my eyes, let it show me black and white, a compliment to the colour grey...an upper movement of my eyelids 2am in the morning, a heavy sight of blurry black, thinking of my destination is the complicated "when?" at 3am. In the darkest hours I'm frustrated at my lighter as I try to hit a blunt and all I get is a spark. I had no idea dreams could cause social hibernation. Wonderful words exchanged in a group chat, parks are now thinking places of dark. Fact is words from society are trapped in a net, dogs bark...i never hear a sound, am I stuck?