It's hell I forgot all my prayers and I'm sitting with beer while some people eat misery, I complain on a full stomach while some people are hungry and have nothing, it always looks pinker on the neighbour but in the background, am I right?I think not, I would like to feel useful but I feel useless, I think I am stupid, luckily in life, I like writing poetry, it allows me to let off steam, to dream and to spend my days, who am I to complain? me the poor madman, I would like to help others but I have poverty with me the poor apostle.
