Uncertainties arise every look:
of doubt, of despise, of madness...
... of fury, of aggression and of extermination.
Offenses are spat out
by similares mouths
to those of whom the words
strike so cruelly.
Too pure for me;
this reality is too terrible.
It makes me die blind of facts
- acts on behalf of peace:
false, inconvenient... and ordinary peace!
Men kill themselves everyday,
but they never did it so ruthlessly
as they do currently. And all is so insensitive.
I doubt a lot of our hearts.
Reflections are what I have left,
because I'm too fragile to change.
And I don't want to lose myself in this world
neither I wish to write about its reality.
Too crazy for us;
this thought is too inhuman.
It makes me cry because of acts
- facts told by a bloke:
irreal, stale... and poetic bloke!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Interesting read. It would be wonderful if the world could and would pull together to create a new and better place in which to reside!