- Ottieni link
- Altre app
Il Miele Artificiale nella poesia..
(Isabella H, poetry's blogger)
(Isabella H, poetry's blogger)
Artificial honey milk without devotion,
With ground bread of ticking experimentation so near by.
I walk and dwell so carelessly to have sensitive skin so marked easily,
I look at myself what type of mask will it take to cover my imperfection of vice verses.
Woke up,
My,Dear,Oh,Dear,
Agony of sadness in front of me,
It pains me oh so dear,
In all my might I can do so little for,
My,Dear,Oh,Dear.
In and out of the door of no return til sun to sunset,
I feel myself dragging my stone block shoes of navigation.
So plain and throbbing circumstances of low degree of particles,
Floating around.
Momentarily , It's quiet over.
Then rewinding a sorrowful movie.
Until it forwards into something.
With ground bread of ticking experimentation so near by.
I walk and dwell so carelessly to have sensitive skin so marked easily,
I look at myself what type of mask will it take to cover my imperfection of vice verses.
Woke up,
My,Dear,Oh,Dear,
Agony of sadness in front of me,
It pains me oh so dear,
In all my might I can do so little for,
My,Dear,Oh,Dear.
In and out of the door of no return til sun to sunset,
I feel myself dragging my stone block shoes of navigation.
So plain and throbbing circumstances of low degree of particles,
Floating around.
Momentarily , It's quiet over.
Then rewinding a sorrowful movie.
Until it forwards into something.
Commenti
Posta un commento