second hope note

This is my second hope note,,,
What a pity,,,
I’m not your pilot,,,
That is mean   i can’t watering your wings,,,
Even if we’ll not be registered to anywhere,,,

Do you remember?   We both know that  shoes with land inside can’t fly
And somehow  we can live together like blind silver fishies in muddy can ,,,

Oh, god,,,  how can i live with you if i know -- your belly is full of wild rice and wooden buttons,,,
And your mouth is warehouse for testicals of society,,,

And everytime, when you scream--- “i want to be a part of this shit!”
You can’t see the cracks on my forehead,,,
And (thanks god) you’re blind and can not see--- i am not alive anymore,,,