This is not the end
cut short
by lack of territory
This is not a dirty shadow in a sad heart
nor teary spit cold rain plants
in gloomy eyes
The monotonous meandering
of slow feet eventually
reaches an end
Rivers come to their end
mountains and lakes
reach their end
a hole comes to its end
as does an empty whisky bottle
a repulsive drunk smashes against a stone wall
but this my friends
this is not the end
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
from my book 'If You Have One Moment'
Publisher 'Stillpoint Books'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem