Tierdy

Ran threw my day
Feeling not yellow, but grey
Grey is neutral
Always feeling beautiful
sick of all my writings
Sick of all my paintings

Sick of the fake
Miss the snow flake

Don't miss nothing
Just something

I have it all
The world is small
The world is mine
Soon I count 2 nine

Fall asleep, waking up not once
But 21 nons
Ens vill be, the essenes of bee
I make no sence
Because I jump over the fence.




grass was greensummer I Sea, a big C.