These ruled lines, to walk along, on a narrow way.
Clouds in winter, to pretend to finish, year-end cleanup today. Or, a spider in winter, to pretend to send away, year-end cleanup today.
No way to do, out of a lavatory, water glows hot.
A spoon, thrown away to be regarded, a boomerang it must be. Or, to throw in the towel, I think so but, never ended it has.
Before landing, to write down with a space, and I fart.