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…
Children jumping on couches
Together.
Adults jumping on couches
Alone.
So no one will see them.
Adults jumping on couches
Because
They couldn’t jump on couches
As children.
Growing up in households
With chairs of wood
With no cushions.
Forced
To behave a certain way,
To dress up a certain way,
To play only after studies.
Never completing studies.
Never free.
Never free.
Forced to be an adult
All their lives.
Adults jumping on couches.
Alone.
So no one will see them.
Because if they do,
They'll not call it childhood.
They'll call it
Madness.
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