The odds are low:
i'm done, you go.
The timing up
and no control.
No words, no further flow;
we're both fed up,
we both go on.
No other means,
no way to stop
this other way -
no thanx
my fire go home.
No thanx
my late mr.crave
my little animal
insane.
The odds are low.
I'd rather give
the world for play...
another time,
another day.
a.g.