Poetry

Steven Croat


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21 march 2012

4000 Watts

The bottle swung next to me.
The shivers blink and want blood...
Time stopped, my ears became deaf.
Who will see me, when I cry?

Treasure of my being is the luck...

Yesterday the landscape became an alley.
They dropped me like an old book.
My soul is an immersed tank.
I know you forget me easily.

My soul plays alone on the violin...

In vain, nowhere any work.
If I see my parents' eyes,
The weight of inertia hurts me.
The pain carries off my hands.

This scruple beats me on my heart...

I am a machine in the volley.
I march (maybe forever).
Somebody's always chasing me,
I can't become a stone.

4000 Watts make me...






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