There is a man staring at me.
What, oh what could he be?
Like a cat,
Stalking its prey.
...
That isn't a bird,
Now don't be absurd.
What then? You ask.
To me it looks more like a mask.
...
The child was kicked by the red pony.
Maybe it was justified, or maybe it was spite,
But the child became a thief,
And painted the pony on the boat.
...
The night is where I have a peace of mind.
The stars are out and glowing like tub of sparkles thrown into the air.
Sounds of nature invite me to join in the display.
A light breeze carries my soul through the air, letting me truely free.
...