Paradise.1 Poem by Sotirios Skoufis

I write poems
I like Boheme
you know me
i am free

I like
to be dropped, kicked, send away
to disappear from every chronic
isn't that ironic?

Was that my choice?
Was that my voice?
I think it was just noise
Was it what I did?

Was it what I said?
Did I yell too loud
in your small compound?
in your little brain?

where there is no rain?
So what did you do?
You know what you'd do?
Shared my posts with few

tell them here is space
cause I've got a raise?
I write fiction stories
they're all about glory

There is no death, no fear, no cry
This is paradise
You can un- materialize
You can change shape and form

you can grow enorm
you can travel through time and space
visit every place
This is paradise