The dinasty boxs of suffering
flows about the river of human wandering
It runs for the last raining season
when the land miss water as catasthrophic reason.

Yet another peace of sea is shrink
while any sufferer won’t something more to think
That the deepest dark in empty sea
will eat any buddy like a piece of fee.

We sometimes suffer for fun
like we steal the shine of sun,
the burning skin we prove to hunt
as industry manifesto of beauty exotic gun

One real black sufferer wonder
why the skin is rank as puny suffer
where the racial discrimination doesn’t count as problem
when a white traveler dressed like a saller for them.