Time moves too fast some-times
Actually, it's too fast all the time...
Death is like a crack on the windshield of my car
I can see that crack's dissemination...
I needed to write this poem
with a pen...
This poem existed
in the future...
I want to be worth more than your money.
Stop looking...
You work alone-
Striving; constantly...
You run upon the lavas of all your fears,
though...
A time comes
We look back...
All these roads are as the print of lashes
on his body...
Find me here,
behind my words...
Dear Little One,
This world might feel a little strange...
I follow the sunlight through my shadow;
breaking a smile in my broken conundrum...