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Loud Rain

The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
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The narcissism of society

 We switch on the lights

And blame the bugs.

It is always

Someone, someplace, something else.

We cannot go wrong,

We are perfect.

The fire spreads because of the wind,

Not because we didn’t clean up dead leaves.

And there is smoke because of the wind,

Not because we lighted the fire

In the first place.

We die

Because death takes us,

Not because we invite him for beer.

Death comes to us,

We do not go to it

Because we can do nothing wrong.

We are perfect.

There are wars,

There are famines,

Children dying on the street.

But we did not kill them,

We did not steal their crops.

They gave it to us because they were dumb.

Because we can do nothing wrong.

We are perfect.


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