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…
They burn matchsticks on mountains
And tells us to feel the heat.
They paint like Picasso
And say he's a clown anyone can imitate.
They shout for the clouds to hear
And cry for their tears to reach the sea.
They shoot moving targets
And end up shooting the people they love.
They do these things.
But it gets worse.
They force everyone else to do these things.
And I cannot believe they actually do them.
And I cannot believe they are judges,
Politicians,
And professors.
I cannot believe
That they are learnt men fighting to enforce stupidity.
I don’t know.
Maybe I’m exaggerating.
But it is better to be stupid.
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