Let’s be lovers, just between the lines of poetry.
We Throw dreams and poetry,
And my verse is a boomerang.
I have no limits and no action
When I am looking desperate for answers.
You must have a good reason
Loving your, inconvenience...
Friends to tell anyone when he-she was thinking
About something else entirely.
Should we be your friend and then,
Mr. Anonymous pay agreement with poets having your face?
You can say "friend" to someone must define what kind of friend?
I was reading myself nowadays
Is what keeps my poetry to live peacefully?
Why is the book for an author if not a surface reflectivity?
A linguistic device that between words,
All that we hear from others, generates self-opinion?