in the rush hours of my life
those times when breakfast is even set aside
or prayers reset
or as he said it once
when dreams
some too personal dreams are deferred
because of a very important matter
concerning the usual
bread and butter
when the stars are not seen
or they exist not at all
on evenings which are cold and
when our bodies are
too tired
no mistake about it
i always take time to scribble some notes
unhampered by style
or what ever they say after
this poem
for instance
a blank page so hungry
that i stop
and bend
just to feed it with some
words to
munch
so here is it. Feel.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem