Poezja

Children of sorrow gnaw into their thumbs. 
Nowhere to go 
nowhere to sleep. 
Something implodes in their ruined minds. 
 
Everyday sun comes with a dream 
in summer, when jasmine blooms. 
This year winter is going to be different. 
A tranquil hand will cover 
the sobs of wailing buds. 
 
Backward goes the illusion quickly. 
Happiness is bargained for excuses. 
Triumphantly the nation moves on! 
 
My blood turns blue in the arteries, Rages 
Guilt is writ large on the face. Cannot breathe. 
The poverty of words weeps in vain. 
 
How long the fear will reign? 
The anger of ephemerility and failed promises 
moves absurdly in geometrical people.