Analysis of FRIED PIGEON

What I gave as long-lasting minute time treasures, appreciating every priceless moment, I wanted to gather with careful cricket modesty with stubborn selfishness! Now, I would expect memories of long-lived physical and critical blade wounds as a frugal roast pigeon to heal by warming up by the rolling Being of time!

Perhaps the only problem that is more unsolved and upset the spiritual balance, that recurring marcona and persistent ghosts that, as a nightmare, whine and sip the porcelain determination of my half-naked and breakable soul after day and try to get rid of them when they return in a bright tadpole living room!

I have seen myself in every way: judging as a scarlet sinner stamped lazy and cool, the age I lived in was splashed upon me, and unjust accusations of unworthy ruthlessness were splashed upon me: A murderous knife-tip stab, and with the tempting and ruthless blunders of prejudice! – Yet that I had hoped and morphed, pondering the war plans with cold heads and honor for days, that

hell-bodied and evil malicious intent-guilty not to knock my head off my swaying neck! I have already seen all that is sacred, salable and bribing in the world, but it seemed an unforgivable sin among all: Making personalities a commodity in the interest – is a betrayal of individuality! Because of the Money, which torments the need for existence to continue, man has become a chess piece of his testimony: The sincere conscience of his morality as a rock, as a monthly rent debt, has been uttered and has become a chess piece with sublime that can be influenced as a corduroy!

I was a polite and half-naked cheerleader! Everywhere he stared at a strange message carrier who trembles and fears the anger of other people who are most wrongly condemning and witnessing bad human knowledge. With caring patience in his room, he collects the always renewed messages of cultures as an immortal Prometheus organ, and when his ladies meet his ladies in the treadmills of the school what a chivalrous artist spirit is: he complimented the sensitive stethoscope ears that I existed contemplatively!
Every human sentient soul, whose innermost secrets I learned, could hardly really know me! Because I have turned to myself out of legitimate self-defense!