Fair fare
it is the afternoon breeze flare, windy
it is white on a flat, leafy at side,
it is buttery intense black inside, swinging scent,
it is a same looking cup that we used to have, but it never the same, ever.

Pale spill
It is the clear blue sky, shinny
It is four angled box, gold by side,
It is the bitter sweet, tint between two fingers,
it is a fag that never taste like the one we shared, but it keep ache-in, forever.

Shall be staying in, where?
Shall be living with it, why?
Shall be leaving all, when?
Shall be nothing at all….

Spending my time, watching the sun goes down,
Spending my time, watching the day goes by,
Praying the grey cloud to leave the square of my sight,
Forever, a soul belligerence aroused by a you……