just to tell u the untold ones..

bad times

is the time when i feel so down.. and everything seems so up high. can’t even reach nor touch..

is the time when i wake up in the morning and feel i am not my self.. im not this kind of person..

thus oftenly i lock the door and keep my self inside.. fixing my own feeling, poeting some words..

i just cry and missing somepeople suddenly.. and many formers.. my simbah putri for sure, she used to smile and wipe my tears away.. i just missing them all..  

a blank page, a paper, a keyboard or a pen.. or just a point finger on the sand.. i used to write something..

i miss the air blows my hair.. i miss the sun burns my skin.. i miss the cold of the wind.. i miss the breeze.. i miss the morning dew.. i miss the song of the earth.. singing the song of this life.

world.. i miss poeting while enjoying u.. i miss poeting while staring the stars up there.. i miss my self..

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