When the sun fades
Rainy depressing weather shades
Tears follow the path of braids

When the moon vanishes
The sounds of insects swishes
Hope in the air snitches

When Glaring hearts turns bare
Like coins on the Ayre
That place of no fare of an affair
Trust and faith flew high in the air

When one you can't compare is in despair
With the face they wear in lair
If I am there and you stare
I swear you will tear

When flare you become
And spit the thumb to rub finger pinky of bum
Pain is rare and scare
Care is spare and unfair

#misheck yalaka kachisuzi

@poet myk
© myk