A bicycle, a meadow, a gate, and a large sun. A notebook, a pencil. and a compass. The large mansion, a suitcase on a table, and red eyes.

Two cats, at a gate, under a blue moon.

Ordinary people that escapes a meadow.

A fragile past, a whisper, and a clock, in a room.

Bright eyes, lost eyebrows, ordinary people, in a confied space, beside a yellow meadow. If I could see a light, I sould consume it, with a soul.

A telescopic presence, a young boy that fell from a bicycle, a old man saved today, a life.

A corridor with empty rooms, lost years through many windows, a butterfly that yearns.

The older man saw a constellation by the window, at night when we all froze. A compass.

A town with cars and cats. A mansion that took my youth. People that looked through eyes.

A hour glass. The last sand I have. Too many problems a far, too much happiness. A heart.

Breakfast, a lunch, dinner, a laundry, silent staff that see through your eyes. Music, through broken windows. A young boy that is silent.

If someone told me about this adventure, I would have gone to the river, and watch frozen ducks. I just want to travel, in time. A compass.

I remember a smaller man who came to the mansion with no clothes, no hope, and no broken tears. His age told me, who I will be.

I saw him outside the window of the mansion, and his face reminded me of the gate at the mansion. Three birds. A yellow constellation.

If only those vast stars above the sky could tell me where to bicycle when no constellation I see. Music in my ears that talked. A present.

I look at the green grass by the vast meadow,
I put my feet and my arms on my blue bicycle. The meadow once kept a girl I kept, a heart.

Watching the yellow mansion, with all the addicts and the mentally ill, I remember my teens. If only I could have found my ownfather.

If I could only stop time and lay down by the meadow, so I don't have to bicycle from my past. The bicycle has all my vivid memories.

There's a gate with a cat beside it, and I believe that I once spoke with this cat, when I was older. The cat is in my pocket on a meadow.

The bicycle I stole outside a restaurant last year,
I believe the owner had a better life than me. A restaurant, a beautiful past, a vivid memory.

A frozen duck that stays when it is a frozen winter, because you never came back to your map. I remember all the seasons. A mansion.

So, I spread arms and legs, while I lay on the meadow, and think about the beautiful mansion. A cat that sees through my broken nose.

The stars shone in my face while on my bicycle, far beyond the town where I used to be at home. I yearn for a constellation that sees a boy.

There's a gate to my heart and the older man outside the window pass through it in the night. I feel the cold night on my fingertips.

If I only could travel through time and find the innocent boy that I once was by those streets. There's grass under my hands. Daylight.

I pick up a older man from my pocket and give him a compass, to help him find the meadow. So many dreams about a life. No more.

You sit in the family room in the mansion and you reflect those blue eyes that you wear in your map. There's happiness if I lool for it.

Down under the carpet, I put all my happiness, while the meadow grows. A girl I see.

All those convicts and mentally ill at a mansion, they all once fell in love under your sun.

There is still a cat on my lap by the meadow, and I want her to go back to a town and be happy.

A telescopic under my beautiful eye brows, that sees through a cat's heart up in vast space.

A cortidor that reflects my past, empty eyes that remember a past, people that could have been.

A town, an apartment that I had, a compass in my pocket, that told mr where a mansion, was.

Seven colors, seven deadly sins, seven ordinary people, that listens to a mouth, a mansion. I lool forward, see a stubborn life, with a bicycle.

Two cats through a gate under a sun. Sunshine through my face, rain on my cheeks, too many choices to pick fram, with no identity.

A suitcase with a future behind locked doors.

An old man, a young boy, one lost girl at sea.

Three whispers that sits on a chair at a mansion.

A town, three stars, and a window. Right now. I rjn a bicycle to the sun, I sense a cross on my back, and I whisper to a old man at the mansion.