Simple is to walk away,
because we lack patience.
Tough is to stay,
because we find ease in impatience.
We write for hours about colour;
mentioning people in poetry.
Who cares if we yell or murmur,
when it consists of no symmetry!
We have coated ourselves with sugar,
making simple things complex.
Everything ends up being a metaphor,
when you hold cigarettes.
Verses remain eternal;
since we revolve around a circle.