30-11-07

Oh... yeah...

There's a time you sometimes think,
you're not the same as always be;
clouds running, your head is a bee,
cold is coming, you feel to sink.
Fog around you, that are autumn mornings,
people as ghosts, and Christmas lights,
maybe getting mad, like Paris' nights;
oh, sometimes I fall in colds and burnings.

Next day, is like a southern revolution,
things from nowhere, are now here,
can they fill a whole book? Oh, dear.
Noises are putting in my mind pollution.
Do you dare to imagine a worse situation?
Oh, don't try to think so dramatically,
shouldn't you learn to be patient,
can't you see the stars shining in silent?
All have its good answer, don't be so tenebrously.

Perhaps are only dreams I'm trying to defend;
time left us remembers, in conclusion, that we are,
but put and live together, can start again and reach so far;
and finally, for itself, great mods, leave the bless for end!