Thursday, 23 February 2012

Just some crappy poems, written under pressure


some people just can't handle
burden of their own thoughts
pain of their mortality
so they keep spitting it on paper

what if word
has weight of thousand stones
and at the same time be the one, the stone
-- filosopher's

real immortality?

it's not yours

although for a moment you are god
looking at me from this bible of yours
ask him about responsibility for words

monologue finished repetitive

are you ready?


I grew up from monkey to walk straight and proud
my greed taught nature to be obedient
I covered her with concrete blanket
and went to sleep in my grey town

"they say that you will get reflection of everything you did"
I thought, bending my back in a tribute
I was climbing on my single-coloured hill
below someone was crawling up the wall

I became deaf blind and shrink
covered with concrete blanket

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