I've got the blacks' blood
That makes me strong like a fired brick.
It doesn't rush like flood
And uniqueness, it speaks.
...
Sorrow fills my heart
Like a target board attacked with darts.
Agony massages my heart
With her hands so tender and mild.
...
Feeble fingers at work
The ball-point taking its walk,
Strolling through my sheet's streets
And its footprints it leaves in bits.
...
One thing I know for sure,
Like a truth that can't be wrong,
p*ss that there is a better home
That can't be compared with Rome.
...
The murder scenes continue
On my papers so cute.
My pen is the victim,
Ferociously starved of its blood and lymph.
...
It's my day of joy,
A decade and five ago I received toys,
But now, it's a time to reflect not dance,
A period to check out my life at a glance.
...
She's taken
But my thought I've given.
On my way I pray
Everyday she should appear.
...
The tunnel I know,
is lined with so many foes,
glued to its walls
dissappointments upon failures.
...
Even though you are here
And some of my courses are still unclear
Still I won't fear
Neither will I be in despair.
...