Playpens
A baby cries in the traffic.
Headlights expose a full closet,
outside of time.
A man needs crutches to find his pride.
A woman needs tears to find her innocence.
We are all so damned exposed.
Glass flowers, meticulous in defiance,
melt in a haze of surrender.
Possibilities run out-
We die for lack of reasons to live.
Dreams of crushing weight, I think
it's universal.
Blind bare the blind,
the Phoenix can't find the sea.
The playpens corrode.
Nothing's worse than being free.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
hmmm? let me look at another. i like the illustration. bri ;)