That Sounds Great On Guitar Poem by Pierre Rausch

Please don't let me go
I don't need nothing further
No fear Mr. Coffee
Mr Espresso waiting in line
I can think about it
For the most part of it
The angel rehearsed
Near the table of emotion
The imposing structure
Traffic lights that change color
Neighs in the responsible sheet
Since when I am weak
I'd hurl to the scaffolding
Whereas The set of someone
A sword in which
And now I have done this
Was a restaurant to the aileron
In front of him again
It had only two rooms
The father of your eyes
From mid-day temperata
I'll swear to you
We are as one in two steps
And haven't yet stepped down
When we are in common
People are good hunters
The search goes on
The addiction testament