wtorek, 21 października 2014



I am reluctant
To write
Weathered words  betray
Traces of weariness
And worn-off paradoxes
Resentfully conceived

Impregnated with ideas
Oozing from books
Tugged from shelves
Unwilling to share
Words words words
I painfully pick up letters

Tread with ease, o human child
Fiery leaves will have complied
All the sad rules of autumn
Pass away, the child of clay
Until coming back one day
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand…

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