tiistai 14. maaliskuuta 2017


They are yesterday's people
what with them
I do, I'll look tomorrow.
I do not have anymore
Simpson forces that
the mountain would relocate up
the exhausted love.
I do not speak a word to you
you do not hear secrets
Mother no longer the country.
I have learned
alone to run against the wind.
I know the power of it,
when the wind blows in the stomach.
It's what behind
leaves, sometimes too much
in memoriam's wrong.
Sometimes windmills
fight, their stroller
under. There is no yesterday
bridges longer, they burned
on High crackling.
Years lazily behind
already were, I remember too
many evil days.
Now I am an old dry
dead wood-like, and
I forgot also all fear.

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