Sometimes you said why do you smoke, hear I smoke.
I do not know write (poem,verse) well my beautiful.
Just when nights fallow days, a few words show up.
It dawns, I still wander your first letter by sitting.
Sometimes my eyelashes get wet, dance with drops..
My apple of the eyes are cleaned as a melody of a song.
The days, I waited till it was dark, become weird..
When you are hoping for your future, I spend my times in jail.
When I am with just clouds, I imagine times, that your hair was a dress for your shoulders.
You were too beautiful for my eyes.
Your hair was like a song and your eyes too.
You couldn't be sated with looking while I was singing.
You were always get listened every song that I had written.
And I did not know punctuation,
I supposed that comma and dot were lovers, If one get lost then other one will perish.
When the writer were getting sadder, I say split up those words.
When I put in train the spelling order, you scratch up the worlds.
I started to scratch mostly when my mistakes come to my mind.

Sometimes you said why do you smoke, here I smoke.
I do not know write (poem,verse) well my beautiful of world.
Already if I wrote , you can not understand.
If I feel bored, I draw something, then we shed tears together.
Then you said why do you smoke much? Here I smoke...