I am a traveller
on the road
going
your way.

Her eyes matched her hair, and she watched me sit down there, at a small table.
There were two black tables small, with four chairs each, her eyes shut, she slept.
Her phone at her elbow, tension, burdened ****** features, i prayed.

I left her, I walked out, found a man bent over, a humble posture
At peace, bent head covered, his tobacco stained fingers laced, prayerfully.
He was a blue jean Jesus, beard bore the same stains as his rough hewn hands.

I passed by briskly and did not look him in the eye, walked down the street.
The blonde pole dancer next caught my eye, she wore short shorts that bared her thigh.
Her habit called, the street she knew, "No Fear, Little Sleep, and Need of Prayer"

Spring reminds me
Of being thirteen,
And sprouting.
The verdant tufts,
And budding girls.

probably you're paying for all sins you did,
not all at once,
but all of them feeling a little all day.
because you dom't know take what God gives you,
you just put friendships on the garbage like trash,
you deserve pay for what you did...
probably you already paid you lose who you loved more, yet you still can't thank to god for what they made for you...
maybe you suffer, and i cant undertand but you should be more,delicate and more lovely for people that love you.
I made some mistakes, but I was always there for you and you still
despise me,
you're unfrateful,
god will punish you believe in that,
because karma is a ***** and karma has no deadline.
-d.a

They preach
Don't be a sheep,
But ******* it
This wool is warm.