If you could make me a poetAll day long I wouldSing your song praising youBut I see not you are a king makerNeither do I see you possess the powerNeeded to dethrone me, so I fear notWhen you are too harsh on me.
Whether he got kicksAlong with bucksI do not knowBut after his returning backHe tweets big insulting themReason he keeps under coverI know it should not bother me at allYet thousands miles awayI feel agitatedThough I am not an ArabianNor the money he earned belonged to meReason is the sameHe hatesI love them all
But that had happened next dayToads and frogs got rain in a period of droughtAfter expressing gratitudeWe could also help to grow enough cornJust ask a prophet to pray to GodYou also could make pour upon you buckets of blessingJust you need to say all praise be to God.
But I do not because of the fact of their dyingI do feel sad when I see, they did not knowWhat life was! Though they became parentsBut never tasted love, so sorry is the state thatSome even did not know themselves let aloneTo know others, truth appeared to themSo bitter that they always kept telling…
On a canvasPaints a pictureWith closed eyesIn flashed imagesWhat he sees.RegardlessOf CultureAnd locationHe perceivesPent up FeelingsIn the same wayAlmost similarIn meaningBy doodlingIn the formOf a pictureAnd unveilsA world ofWonderBy paintingWith closed eyesIn flashed imagesWhat he sees.