‚ÄčLet’s share a rain, 

Let’s share a sunshine, 

Let’s share this world, 

Which is no good to me, 

You might not take me away, 

So let’s just share what I have.


Miracles are to die..

I have swiftly flew to a new side,

A new no-sea shore,

A light yellow horizon,

Beneath the pink sky,

Lighter like the colour of blood;

War has not broken out,

Men don’t loath in thirst

On streets, on chairs;

There is still lightly creased shirts,

Walking to regular moods of jolly,

Falsed men and children.

I am in my mind,

The crimson pink is rage,

Not boiling bubble of anger,

But serene butter like hatred;

It eases my soul,

To know, I know my hate,

And has it cherished

Under sounds of silent smile.


‚ÄčThe page ended before the word,

Before the idea,

And I always could turn the page;

I didn’t,

I tore it apart,

It was rage,

I hated the incomplete sound

Of the word,

The idea.

The flow was awkwardly broken,

My thoughts and peace were shattered.

And the plain cruel page,

One side full of ink blue stains,

Lied crumpled and suppressed.