Shanzophrenia.

“Fault; Our certain ability to make one, or a mistake we fall into.

My certain copestone emotion; forgive and give another chance to someone’s life.”

________________________________________________________





I arise with some feeble hard bones where felt pain has become a daily routine.
Opened at brink on an early sunshine I depart at my devotee to be in sour full and less appreciated appraisements…

How do I remark myself of a mournful evening I entitle too less of an everyday melancholy.

‘I play save old man! Still I loose of hands of a bad defense; it’s a battle I cant be condemn with so soullessly I begin to cry my lonely tiring night. I see to recover of mistakes that I am made to believe I have made.

I try, but it doesn’t make it work-while to the harsh boulevard I walk down to…

If still young I could have been provoked, I could have found lust and forget but I envy their daily pleasure and that’s my sin that I have grown a carcass too, and I grab an early morning prayer to a lost idealism that I still feel bounded too.

Alas! I finally leave in tears of that I am still hopeless, poor and sinful that people forget to forgive….

…To the road I am again

Written: May 12,2006