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…
I lie on the sand,
Unable to open my eyes to the sun eating my skin.
I lie on the sand,
And feel tickled by the breeze
Caressing the sweaty hair on my underarms.
I lie on the sand,
And get scratched and crushed
By the many baby turtles rushing for the sea.
The gulls come in to grab them,
And the mother sea cries aloud
For her dwindling children.
I become a soldier once more,
Trying to crawl out of this war zone
Into the safety of some rock
Or broken tank.
I lie on the sand,
Unable to open my eyes to the sun eating my skin.
But I opened them.
I shouldn’t have.
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