Washing-up in hot water, the news coming from TV,
smelling lemon-aroma bubbles I dont get that time flees.
Sunlight has gone far earlier sunk in a glass of cold:
a bottle of red wine helped gloominess to unfold.
Windows have curtains and honey grows in pots:
beauty is hidden in this rhytmic modern hip-plot.
Thought rides in circle, routine prevents any strife:
bared is my mind therfore i think "so this is life..."
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