I AM A LOST POETRY
I´m sorry,
I can’t climb
this silence walk
made of distance
connecting us.
I can’t see the spring
following your touch
on the empty atmosphere
made of winds ravenous
of nothing.
I am a lost poetry.
My eyes
are a grudge forest
from hard words to say.
Nowhere words crying on me.
How mush
this loneliness
depressing
my accepted wisdom.
Submited by
Tuesday, January 25, 2011 - 20:35
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Henrique
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