Then again

Again, all the air is hollow,
And, that a boy was school
and the inspiration of the youth, -
becomes like a flute,
and no matter how you exhale Bata, -
being romantic doesn't suit you. -

You grew up-a cynic and miser
The zeal and fervor — on my paper,
what a poof! - more fire! -
what's outside is aplomb and foam,
(broken knee hurts),
and the air is asleep the wrong side of the day. -

Inside? - like a pipe, outside,
stranglehold with each breath tighter,
and the music that the ocean,
washes away all words and meanings,
and time dry numbers
finish with a Coda to the novel -

Don't wait, don't be afraid, don't be sad, -
if the black flute or al, -
everything could be inhaled,
but you play iron.,
And the voice of a pipe over the abyss,
in nothing paves the way.

Disclaimer: I just found these in my library. I do not have the rights to them,
I just them and decided to share them with you.