somewhere in my frame
a black box that clocks
my every heartbeat
every wink of the eyes
every single hair that sprouts
but sadistically conceals
all the vital numbers from me
somewhere in my frame
a black box that counts
every of my pores
everybody i am going to meet
and the exact second i am going
to kick the bucket but allows not a single
shard of light to escape the stasis, the black hole
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Everyone got a black box.... a soul! It may represent also a conscience which dictates which is good or bad. Thanks bro, top marks.