You’ve got no more wings
For you’re a bird promised
In a sky that never promised nests
You learn the flight in vain
From the puncture point
Clay like on markets you sing like a pigeon
In vain
You – stuffed- promise
Big feathers to the small ones
In vain
A 3 demodelled world
Fires back
A stray bullet
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem