I knew you're for my whole life and yet we were so...
Many years past before I spoke to you again...
My mind is squeezed into lemonade
For those around to enjoy...
A parlay bet laid with a click on my phone
Curled up on the couch to watch it alone...
Do you ever wonder
Do you stop and think about...
Every work of heart is each a piece of art
Be it poems, sculptures, music or drafts...
What a fastidious quarantine i've found in...
quietly perfunctory like the malaise of my allure...
Yeah, whatever pops into my mind, why are so many...
Never thought that putting out the Garbage cans...
Imagine
things that are not...
Old mails are old stories
In some mails i lived the glory...
Is it all about ennui
keeping boredom at bay...
I wasn't born
in Ballarat...
She wished to be child again
She imagined it all so badly...