it's all about the pilot
said the anonymous man beside me
you'll know it
how the plane make it to a landing
when it's shaky, it's a man
when it's smooth then it's a lady
how can that be quantified?
i said to him silently
accelerating lights passed my window
filtering what is real
from the city full of whims and delusion
what does it takes to be fully aground
when your finger tips are bursting
i hope it's gonna be a lady
my mind told me
crisscrossing my thoughts
of the unseen pilot
here goes
the destination
devoid of notion
well, i'm bound to get lost
so it won't matter anyway
even if the plane lands safely
or it will crash, leaving
hands gripping
on seats
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem