The Poem Book That Shouldn't Be Seen [P1: If It Goes Up, Must Come Down]

Every day is a new zero to add to the comma.

Every time,
One could say,
But what to say when there is no time to rhyme,
When there is no way.

Because every time I wake up and do nothin',
Every time I go to bed without havin' done anythin',
Every rhyme that loses meanin', meanin' or feelin',
All those things are in vain.

Every basket that is not made,
Every exam that is copied,
Every cup that is not filled and another side,
Every day unspoken, every page turned...

I don't give for more,
I can not anymore,
I can't do more,
I have more things to do...

I sincerely count the words at the end of each poem,
I guess I don't like poetry,
I don't like to think about the next rhyme,
I will try...

When you are born you are,
When you grow up you become,
Then you think it's not fair to be here,
Then your time runs out,
you regret, you met the devil, they introduce him to you,
You don't fill anything inside you, the ice spills with its burning fire....

Because every day it's a new zero to the probability comma,
And every day I'm further away from you,
I asked me, aren't we supposed to say that the farther away we are, the closer that we are? I went into a coma,
In the room raving with you,

In the bathroom...