Recycle Bin - Poem by Hans Preciado
Is there really nothing?
Are they really gone?
This is the celestial representation of what
It is to be continued again, and represented as the
Idea of continuation.
To be nothing, it is defined,
As it is denoted, and that feeling of the resembleness of
Symbolization with a real idea of reversion,
With a small hint of perfected perversion, after all,
We all are the acute representation
Of that which has no gender,
No face, no mind, for it is never less, everlasting
Mighty, ever-present, safe,
And no more than a dream turned off.
The emotion that is felt around this place of confusion
Where you can even feel the relation of real sensation
Of the creation of the crate, the crave of sole solution.
Comments about Recycle Bin by Hans Preciado
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You