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sad poetry

dépassement par les murs blottis et laids
vous ĂŞtes clair
les étoiles sont tombées du ciel
je secoue mes cheveux dans le vent du matin
comment comme les étoiles sont ces le blanc, les visages inconnus
travails de la terre
frère, je suis le feu
ma douleur, quand elle est ici avec moi
remuez
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant
ainsi tombé
en septembre
laissez-moi ĂŞtre triste

 



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