Life will never be the same
Smiles cry in the everlasting game
And only few lives
Are in attention
I've locked them up on
Autumn squere-wear
Where am I?
Diseffective method of living
A chance of being only right
Between
Deep compeaving and nusty punch
Unwroten title for the end
Of incomming
That appears. Never.
Where am I?
When I need you now, ok
Pulling out some how...