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…
There are people
Who clean toilets
They can never sit on
And they don’t have it
In their houses
Because
There are no houses
For them
There are people
Who bathe in hot showers
Too hot for the skin
But they feel nothing
Because the inside burns
Much more
There are people
Who feel proud
To walk into a store
And buy oats
It is one of their
Two great achievements
The other
Is getting out of bed
There are people
Who feel proud
To sleep till noon
It is one of their
Two treasured moments
The other
Is falling asleep
In the first place
There are people
Who stay in,
Not going to parties,
Watching porn
Because it is the only thing
That makes them feel
Anything
Even if that ‘anything’
Is their own sorrow
Their own shattered selves
There are people
Sitting naked
Beside running taps
In their bathrooms
Crying
Having no strength
To bath
Having no strength
To put something on
Alone
Afraid of
Their own selves
Comments
Post a Comment