Long subliminal messages
8.34 pm and yet undone
like a quote of Confucius,
"it doesn't matter how slowly you go
so long as you do not stop."
Waiting is the work of life,
a big plastic chair which chill you.
But waiting is a very confuse,
"Is it me or it is you going to be
forsaken by time goes by?"
My heart's a station lies underground,
Your love's bullet train going through.
Our space are platforms numbered.
And conversations never found.


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