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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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Alone and used

 Someone left this glass of wine on the bench.

Can I drink it?

Who knows why it was left alone.

Maybe

Two lovers sat down and had a great time,

And walked off.

Or they might have argued and went their separate ways.

Peace or hostility;

It doesn’t matter.

The glass of wine

Is left alone anyway.

Now,

it's for the ants,

The bugs

And the ravens who couldn’t taste blood.

Now,

it's for all those who really deserve it.

Now,

It's free

Truly.

Now,

Anyone can drink it.

But no one will.

Because what if

The people return?

What if they unite?

That's bullshit.

The beggar drinks it before the raven can.


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