I speak less, but all my poems speak more than a thousand words.
To the mountains touching clouds,
a staircase I'm making on.
Blood, tear, bruises
and sour water I'm drinking on.
...
I was quiet, I was silent,
you asked me to care when I was numb.
I'm sitting in silence for day and night.
I needed you then,
...
It was quarter past five,
that time of day,
when I went in woods to play.
With the brisk breeze, flew my cape
...
To them loving wealth,
loving humans is hard;
Who will love you,
without a human heart?
...