count the wallflowers? 1,2,3,4,5,
6...you can't count these wallflowers
they stick their lives on walls
not letting go
their deepest desires
lying on their teeth
covering their faces with
thick veils
and hats and masks
heavily tinted sunglasses at noon
and
funny, even at nighttime
at the bars
their bodies wrapped with leather
and wool
they do not dance with life
they fear taking the wrong step
or be laughed at
they are the spectators of the show
they say they are enjoying it somehow
no, they are stuffed toys,
on their comfort cabinets.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem