pediram-me:
i know
here's what
a ditch
crown of glory
and a glass of red
bright minds' glitter
cherish where beauty dwells
and care for trees on every street
hide away from madmen
who raise themselves hungry for meat
diggers of bottomless wells
biting and feeding off dreams
and gaily comes barging in
dread
of incomprehension not
of the forthcoming horde
maturing
unknowing
unheeding
no harbour of faith
no tower upright
i know
here's what
not a walking coffin.
Sem comentários:
Enviar um comentário