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.