Saturday Genre

Music was created by hands, 

with great knowledge demand,

People aiming to give what they feel,

In a melody related to real.

Anything started with a beat

a lights that blink to make heat

body of people stated to pump

searching for a lady of a tramp.

People are all in groove,

drunk of liqour so cold,

stand on a stage with red cheek,

minding this for a week.

On That Special Day

I do appreciate,
That God made me in these state,
To walk not in sorrow
But like a mallet and a barrow.

To mold my whole being,
and to thank all the small things,
I may have all the confidence,
people may hate my occurrence.

I live my life with love,
Oh God's grace of you, from above,
getting things on the right time,
a blood with a drop of lime.

Drink these alcohol all night,
yet tomorrow will be the same right?,
deceiving thy mind and heart,
causes illness to this human part.

On that special day,
I gave that rose away,
To free myself from prison,
accused me for one or more several reason.

Not expecting so much from a she,
a growing flower to take those thorn,
friendship wanted to be reborn,
true love will remain unto me,
On that one SPECIAL DAY.