Kindles are the eyes of my wicked flowery dress
What yellow is always seen red
Far too slow from the buttery edge of my words
Buttonhook that says a thousand verbs.
Such creators propose my sensibility
A slap in the face is a true vengeance
And on my way to corruptibility
I am told to be one young freak instead.
My reflection is innocently wearing that flowery cotton wool
It has mistakenly understood my wording rules
Once seen yellow, then red, and now blue
My foolishness suddenly sores to happiness
Original Poem By :