When I typed ‘you’ in google,
The screen showed :
A voice brings me to NREM 3 stage of sleep
A story stands like a frieze of ravishing elm
Time being my intermission from riot of life and rant to society sucks
Nights I pass through talk about things that get us inside invisible bubble
Days give me strength by whisper story with often waggish
A crystal clear and shimmers Shooting star among sky stuff
Promises never fulfill
An air with mystery colours that I can’t read
A beauty, always betray
Words that I can’t yell to the world
I thought they are so the way you.
On the train,
Oct, 19th 2016
image : doc. writer
firdhaussi.com 