Far away from all the beautiful lands and seas, all the fresh air and the clean streets, lived a boy who had seen too much, felt too much and saw too much that disturbed and tumbled bad memories and all this made him more fragile, all this made him feel like he didn't belong anywhere. Because anywhere you went, and everywhere you turned, someone was killing and betraying somebody else.
He wanted to be innocent and he wanted to feel free.
Bad memories tied him from the core of his heart and the essence of his youth to all the greed and undeserving power these horrible people had on the world.
So he began to escape.
He traveled far and wide, every time he encountered another creature that wronged another, he would walk away and never speak to them again. Eventually he ran out of corners and the world became too confusing and complicated. He knew the only person he could trust was his heart. Until he had a heart attack, and then died. He was young, but his soul gave up. He then remained another lost spirit wandering into the minds of other young boys, being that little voice inside them that told them to let go of the anger and get rid of the fear. So he continued to travel, once each boy grew up, he had to vanish, for grown men don't listen to anyone else, inside nor outside.
This boy had many names, he is no conscience, he is not tamed. He still lingers in their sleep, reminding them that their memories are forever kept, in his little bag, where nothing has any real value.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Interesting story/poem. A lot of wisdom in that bag of non-value and closed minds. Good write.