Playing the accordeon
Old man
All the melancholic notes
I enjoy
You remind of someone
still carved on my stone
Drown in misery
Notes of courtesy
A bit of fantasy
For the busy bees
aim some sympathy
No one notice , old man
We are both misplace
As boxing in lace
The coin rain to wait
Though eventual drop
We are both misplace
No one appreciate.
No comments:
Post a Comment