I have left the fussy city

I have left the fussy city.
I have closed the door.
I had too much naivety and one tender song.

I have taken my paintings.
They are like the children for me.
They cannot have any rating.
It is perfect. You will see.

I have left the tired cold city.
I do not remember the sea.
It was funny naivety to wait for warm kindness.
Maybe…

I am living forever.
I have a true love of the sky.
I know the spaces where paintings can fly.