Today the poet is in a slightly artistic mood
“The poet got tired of poverty and became a bandit
He went to rob the bank and said
What is said… What is in destiny will be found
Hands up… No one will move from their place
Take some of your dreams out of my eyes
Put whatever you have in this bag
I try hard to forget your memories
Be careful not to call the police
The courtyard of your heart is desolate
Hurry outside my friend is standing worried“
😅😅😆😅😅
