A wooden table,
Which is obsolete.
As though broken anyone fortune, Which was built by his experience
Look at the lonely chair;
Many seasons came and went,
Several months, years passed away.
Still waiting to be doing as if someone
And be humming a song alone.
When seated with his single destiny;
And no one’s going to be a wait.
There is enjoy like he is taking the Poles Whom these words are placed Together.
And then takes a revenge of their Decline,
Exactly like the black poles lying down
The steps are as an artist as the first Rays of the sun kisses.
Posted from WordPress for Android