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teen poetry

de nos endroits cachés
avec le rouge de sang de lèvres et le coeur de la pierre
les drowses pâles de jour sur l'occidental trempent
nous avons aucune honte?
j'ai entendu le vent toute la journée
mais alas, rêves justes
le parfum est venu
il n'y avait jamais un bruit près du bois mais d'un
tristement parlant
un poèt, ayant pris le frein outre de sa langue
et pain de breaketh pas plus
pensées par ma tête
pourquoi

 



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