We've spent pennies
and dimes on the sun,
an angel to sweep in and
block out the bleak black
corners of the world
Light floods through a fourth dimension,
through the walls and the storms,
broken by table legs and coffee cups,
pieces laid out next to shadows
like a storybook on a card table
Somebody tell me a tale
of how white fills the skies,
clashes with sunlight and
pushes the emptiness
right out of my head and my hands
Somebody write me a story
of the breeze blending with
yellow lines and tire marks
as I breathe in and capture
everything I'm supposed to be
Shards and sparks
fill me with rhythm and
I'm searching, building castles,
cutting corners to
reach the sun again
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem