Red...
Even on covered frames,
I guess that's why-they call them window panes...
Grey...
locks on every latch.
Close it tight, and light the match...
Crazy they call me?
But really how can they?
They don't even know me,
And now they will all go away...
THE POEM CALM MY MIND AND GIVES A PLEASURE TO MY SOUL…………………………………. THIS IS REALLY GREAT, YOU R TOO MUCH TALENTED, THE WAY YOU PENNED THE POEM IS REALLY PRAISE WORTHY, WELL WORDED, A WELL CRAFTED POEM INDEED, I LIKE THE POEM AS YOU LIKE IT. PLEASE READ MY POEM, I WANT TO DIE’’
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Like every word used in this one, also theres some abstract aspects, are you saying that greyness is embeded in every aspect of life which is an anology with latches. and that window frames represent eyesight covered red signifying acts of violent repression. Thats just my two cents, love the thought invested in this.