A woman will never
was not completely satisfied with anything.
There is a woman will often
weird, strange.
A small man,
modest lonely.
Does not know its way chosen,
what tomorrow may bring.
One of the most life out of the drink,
second life to making music,
notes rang broken.
Broken World
disasters feet
I embed.
Does not rise anymore banquet tickets
their flagpoles.
And the voice is ringing the night,
as of February acquired icy.
There is a woman often too stubborn,
he can break through
only their own tears.
Invertebrates of the world
invading, snow-filled alleyways.
Get lost in the snow in Helsinki,
my mood,
is like a full dresser.
Joensuu is somewhere out there,
where racism is on the road.
After two weeks,
I wake up in the spring,
no longer flog me.
I look at my side
strange men.
Life is what it is,
a never-ending adventure.
You like to draw my dreams,
because I get to live,
I write, and I write
at night a new story.
Bedside lamp is lit,
I glanced at it secretly.
Week after week,
these poems only adds to the suspension.
Do I see a dream,
or whether this is true
snowy kingdom.
The writer is a strange,
another country,
that many people do not understand able.
Think of trouble is he alone,
sad while barking,
If I will be with you.
