When the Dance stops
So now the party in Singapore is over
pacts are signed, and the show of lies is over in the meantime,
I have been looking at pretty flowers FB, which inspired me
to go for a walk, the blooms on the terrace are
past their glory, they are pale shadows waiting for a new spring,
only my cacti are flowering it has nevertheless with by my
ignorance and little water thrived and have bell-like red flowers.
The sheep on the field eat the pretty flowers first
before eating grass, I think they are colour blind
or think beauty must be consumed before it pales.
Meanwhile, the two dancers in Singapore smiled better than a crocodile would and we cynics wait for the next step.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice appraisal of the situation post pleasantries and pacts at Singapore. Things remain as skeptical as they were prior to the meeting. Thanks.