One day on the go

The neck will be washed like this

Most hurt

Only the glasses will,

He will lose his face

Hold the universe as you please

That too will remain tweaked

What kind of life live

Be yourself

Sometimes closed sometimes open

Sometimes stare and roar

Never say meow

Sometimes laughed, miserable laughed

Often silent

Bewildered looking for a place to sit 


The air is full of smell of noble hair 

In this perfect spring 

But where does one wake up to a good idea

In the leaves of the spines in the grazing leaves

Ask people who have been killed in the last riots

The meaning of this animalism still released

Nothing done 

Except a little shy