November 27th, 2011
Somewhere I am waiting for a magic carpet ride
That takes me around the globe and I hold on to its brushes
I can feel so melancholic, coz I am in an environment where I do not belong
When I look outside I see the wind blowing softly through the trees
The water running between boats, as the cars watches over them
But this is not my stop, and I cannot find my train
So I wait here until a fabric made plate takes me to a better place
Where I belong.
I’m so sorry, now.
How are you?