You intend to be poetry, But you're my best-written novel You intend to be poetry, But you're my best-written novel
Waiting for a reason... Waiting for a reason...
The crumbled soul, Entangled in pretense... The crumbled soul, Entangled in pretense...
I don’t know what is trust. I don’t know what is trust.
She was the gleaming sunlight, Her sparkly eyes resembled crystal. She was the gleaming sunlight, Her sparkly eyes resembled crystal.
The poem describes the journey of a paper boat. The poem describes the journey of a paper boat.