A mediocre
You're enjoying I'm creating Neither hundred percent Nor the hundredth of whole Only like a mediocre of You and me. As long as I'm writing My poem bridges the gap Even though a single Atom of us.
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I can't level myself with words, it is what I do everyday that defines me, complicated but simple
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Never-ending morning
The real clock, it is
On the wrist of the time
A token of today's suffer,
It starts with the day
But moves round the clock,
It lives in the circles,
A symbol of beginning
A symbol of zeal.
It floats through dim light,
It floats through hazy outline
It floats through whole the life,
With a never-ending morning.
On the wrist of the time
A token of today's suffer,
It starts with the day
But moves round the clock,
It lives in the circles,
A symbol of beginning
A symbol of zeal.
It floats through dim light,
It floats through hazy outline
It floats through whole the life,
With a never-ending morning.
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When the conversation turns into meeting.
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