Yellow and gold

He wants your yellow

You want his gold

He wants to see

You want to hold

He won't walk out

If even you take out the rose to spoil low

Rose like gold

like yellow and gold the rose I picked
should not wither in the sunny silt
whereas it's not worth the picky pinch 

In their only hole

The path which leads not astray
enter directly into their only hole
and unto the pretty feet the dust holds

Those who were in need beckoned
and were the same that let go
leaving doors ajar and without a wave

Different the say to the love of yesterday
proving as the best and comforter thereof
moving away to his side a ring the one that gave her

Shorter than a second

It was shorter than a second
how long we poked our ends
and far longer the waiting moments

Kiss

What is in a kiss counts mostly on how you would like to look at it: a cultural, political, religious and romantic art form.

We perfect from imperfection

We perfect from imperfection 

We see in parts our perfection

With imperfection

The foul and wise

The sane and insane

He acts differently than all

He behaves like him

Who is mad?

Lower it

Lower it don't kill it

When it is within you

When not outnumbered 

And all weighs heavy on you, their eyes

And their silence suffocates

And your words unheard