I stood there and watched them mourn their loved...
the remorse was pure and perfect art captured...

Why is the sun always angry,
it burns with anger and frustrations...

You are my sunshine,
my heart brightest moonlight...

I'm a hard art.
Paint of many faces...

What is there to remember,
the smell of death or the fountain smile crowded...

Today I write,
tomorrow I fight...

Yearning befalls prey
to a broken wish...

Today I mark a golden day of being sober.
My celebration of hatred towards alcohol...

The sunset paints my feelings
While the sky reflection represent my inner self...

Use your own hand for a pillow.
The sky uses clouds...

I could write of you,
of how much I miss you...

You are pulchritudinous.
And sometimes I wonder whether...