each of us is reflecting,
blue carbon paper,
created to resemblance.
so often I can see in the street,
similar in wiped jackets,
lined with the wind and... with wind...
I can sometimes see myself,
with fear, when I get lost
between them in the sleep.
I am handing out golden coins
from my pocket, but it quickly are ending
and this way I am staying.
in a minute bare and barefooted,
I am waking up in the warm bed,
with you and thrusts, because supposedly
I still have the conscience,
but I am lacking the courage
in order to admit to it.
laughter in the room... would fell me from legs...
I still have the conscience, but I am lacking the courage in order to admit to it. a perfect poem wih deep idea and sweet logic that you expressed with professionally..really enjoyed it alot and I like this type of meaningful poems you do..you are writing poems with quite expertise and full of deep inside concerns..well dome..10/10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
imaginations wild...mind diving deep into dreams yet conscience remains afloat...very much emjoyable read Maria...thanks...10