Hey its me, its mine
I may be a devil or an angel, its all fine
Here i only have my thoughts to chase
I don't have to put on a pretty face
The world's not black nor is it white
It is a canvas where the colours fight
There is sweet and there is sour
Come let your taste'buds' blossom like a flower
With me in my very own space
Lets write away, as if its a pens' race!
The demure exterior is a farce often mistaken for austereness. It takes acumen to set apart a knoll of worthless refuse and opt for a mountain of everlasting fortune.
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