Some memories I've left behind,
some may have come along...

No poet i am,
yet script i do...

If every need was to be granted,
every man would be rich in satisfaction...

Broken glass cn be put together,
n yet be called beautiful...

Would i believe in god,
if it weren't for love...

As plain as it is,
as uncomfortable is this...

Dont close them now,
still theres more to see...

Hiding behind a door,
keys turned...

How many colors can you see,
in a single heart...

Would I know,
or should I know of where I belong...

Everythings in my hand,
still fear so much...

I don't know why,
Trying to let go of you...