He has a guitar
and no strings did exist before
He has hands
which feel like artistic moments
He has a voice
drawing the pain for time
He has mystic hair
flying wild in my thoughts
He has legs
a book touching one
He has lips
madly tightened in words
He has anger
I swig to stand
He has eyebrows
I drew in a cold day
He has a chest
dreaming a bed
He has a deepness
like a forest in a moonless night
He has a sway on art
ever shading my floor
and no strings did exist before
He has hands
which feel like artistic moments
He has a voice
drawing the pain for time
He has mystic hair
flying wild in my thoughts
He has legs
a book touching one
He has lips
madly tightened in words
He has anger
I swig to stand
He has eyebrows
I drew in a cold day
He has a chest
dreaming a bed
He has a deepness
like a forest in a moonless night
He has a sway on art
ever shading my floor