Many things have been tossed away, the wind carried me, yeah me, into filthy bottoms, yeah filthy, heaven’s where?
Downward spiral..
I stood there and glared at the pitiful shades of grey swallowing my raison d’être desiring to yellow a reverse.
It doesn’t make sense!
I belong in the depths, what have you expected?
Joie de vivre was not formed by purple corals, but perhaps by your ability to not be tossed away.
Stand firm, stride purposefully.
And currents will recognize you as an immobile rock.
Unshakable, I shall rest on this very rock-bottom where I belong, as long as I learn to be untossed.
Never again,
a rolling stone.
I will wait for you here.
Alone.
In the meantime,
I have built a home, of which all bricks are tossed, thrown and broken on my ability to withstand.
Lessons..
The entry and exit are wide and inviting.
But the invitation list, I have chewed gum and grinned from ear to ear, for destiny to come..
Un sopracciglio italiano ha sollevato una domanda architettonica ma non ha potuto fare a meno di baciare il ragazzo disordinato sui suoi lividi eppure ama nel modo più duro con le mani sul cuore, non sarà mai sballottato e sarai rispettato allo stesso modo.
