Not a small enough
plate for my heart
should I eat it?
a saucer full
of red mud,
the liquified
devotion,
If i second that...
suddenly,
and if a song triggers
something off!
because it filters
out every once in a while,
then I could have used
some other word,
but you would have
pinned down the moment
and the rhyme,
in due time, or dead seconds,
sticking like dead flies
to the window of your mind,
I wipe the fog on the glass
away, so that I can look in,
bits of everything you do or did,
that have entered me,
without my necessary approval,
I didn't agree to life
with you or sign a contract,
No! I was born to be good!
to be different and make
some interesting choices,
however, nothing out there
is of any real interest to me,
and you keep bolstering it up
as if it's all worth much much more...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem