I’m flying to a long long height,
Wherever should look around
There might be a different way of fight;
I will be waving to the colored red kite,
In a dark black night...


I’m walking to the way, I deserve,
Sometimes, I keep myself so reserve,
There’s nothing to preserve,
Something in a hot plate to serve...


I’m sleeping on warm green grass,
Nothing in here to be harass,
I am a Napkin, will be thrown by you to trash,
Like a plane had got crash,
We’ll be living all by the by on crush;
My voice will be getting so harsh,
Everything will be starting to got rush...



Click The Link To See More: Poems Of JOHN ROZARIO OVI