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father poem

désolé et seul
pourquoi faites-vous toujours stand tremblant là
vous pensez, mon garçon, quand je mets mes bras autour de vous
je me suis tenu prêt le tissu pour rideaux ouvert
ils peuvent parler de l'amour dans une petite maison
j'aime ma vie, mais pas trop bien
je la pense splendide juste
les poèts le disent
remplacez la vision du plaisir
quand la nuit dérive le long des rues de la ville
bien que repine d'amour, et frottement de raison
c'est la chanson de la jeunesse

 



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