Running around in importance မေမေရယ်
Write dreams on paper
Sends the highest paper folded edge
I cut the cords.
God will soon wake up my mother.
I eat a little smell of chicken noodle soup on the young, Parkinson drumstick I want to believe will give revival.
ဘာပဲဖြစ်ဖြစ်ပေါ့ မေမေရယ်
Believe something
And a cotton cord.
The mother sheep lamb curry rice Rev.
The world below the line again and again
Those complex folded lie thick ငေးရင်း
Just a little hot congee line
Tread
မေမေရယ်. . . .
No return
No legs, no roads,
Too dark, everything was a terrible beautiful.
Sage star dream with the skins
I love shopping too much. . .
I folded my hands tightly
Nothing great invisible heavenly yawning ငေးရင်း
Hat laughing လိုက်ရင်း
It inevitably Gypsy Although Rice had
Fairy dreams still hold cut-in-law
Go over the garden
Go over rivers
Go to flow precisely Images
The modifications ox-bow lake
Between ephemeral smile rush
displayed The attachment ၥာ
ပဋိစ္စ မုပ္ ပာဒ် လည်တယ် cycle.
Such modifications do not. . .
Hours conspicuously alone running home ငေးရင်း
The horse's medal dreams were related class
I hate
Whipped law does not
The fate Jockey BIRTHDAY
မေမေရယ်
Some poisoning cases
The cycle does not satisfy.
Pauk peace with
I had to gather in the shade
About plantations
I picked missed
About the flower
When good honest about prices
It has been to break the law
A bread. . . .
Backpack with out crying
WEARING ကျိင်္ အဖြူလေး
Knitted truth Ammunition
I think the car and pulled it down.
Hanging bubbles go to God for a ride.
When I was a paper kite with my first mother.