Yesterday I sent my litter to the stars It look me years of saliva to stick up all the stamps My tongue is scrapped although I know, it was in vain I should just have to waved them hello To share all the hope that tomorrow placed Between the cries We are all writers We are all painters to, to, to not, to, to not bite my nails To not hurt the fate I run for my own pole star To dig an outlet To wright my own, my personal horoscope Each word Each second Has got the weight of thousand millions of sentences I only wish that we live in the same painting There are morning which fade at noon There are some days that we forget when night comes An army of dead calendars buried with apathy Down on my knees In this fathomless bath I feel drowned