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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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Collage

 


They tear us apart

And throw us onto the cardboard frame of history,

Where we stick together

In ways that do not make sense.

They tear us apart

And throw us onto the cardboard frame of history,

Making a collage

Where we do not realize

That we are important.

But those fingers;

Those tyrannical fingers that tore us apart

Sees us all together,

Only significant together,

As we create this beauty;

A piece of art

That is meant to be felt,

But not explained…

A piece of art

That leave our enemies speechless,

Because there truly is nothing to be said

About us…

We are random,

But the dumb find us beautiful,

And the smart find in us many meanings

That we did not create…


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