There are specks of dirt that’s drawn like faces sometimes, some will trip and drip some paint. A beast of melancholic times, You’ve let us cry without complaint.
Your sheets are covered with dirt and dust, you accepted it with all your might. I sometime saw a pizza crust, Bet it’s a remnant from last night.
You always hear my fangirl screams, And you are never pissed You hear as well my cries and dreams, My friend with you, I’m pleased.
Stepped on and sheets are tattered, It always makes me mad, I’ve seen your feathers on floor scattered, For you, I feel so bad.
Your softness is like clouds above, You must be sent from heaven. Your warmth is always what I love, I won’t be ever frightened.
-Esquia, Genesisah A.
Humanist Talk 