Wandering Poet

I choose the noisy place
to gather ideas,
And so I start the pace..

To the Market,

I did hear a sound
Clamouring all around;
But nothing register,
So I just left the crowd.
.
.
I choose the solitary place
to gather ideas,
And so I start the pace..

To the Greenfield,

I did feel so calmed,
in fact,
I was too calmed,
to the extent,
my body could not respond;
And my laziness dominates the round.
.
.
Now I choose her place
to gather ideas,
And so I start the pace..

To my Girlfriend,

I did went to her room,
saw her sleeping in bed
She is half naked
And I find myself drooling. (Wooh)
.
.
I choose her mom's kitchen
to gather ideas
And so I start the pace..

To the Kitchen,

I can't resist the offer
Roasted beef on the table,
Oh how I love to savour,
Thank you for the dinner!
.
.
Now I choose the place,
Where without a trace,
to gather ideas,
And so I start the pace..
.
.
.
But I think now its too late,
As I just get exhausted,
I am but a wandering poet;
who jumps into different places
to write something about it.