If only...

Look into my eyes and if you can see

the untold words written,

but not visible to the world then you are the

lucky one. If they make any

sense, than you know that they are

part of my world and maybe yours also.

Look at my face and see my smile

at receiving your messages or even just

a postcard, my smile grows if I receive

your call, even if you don't talk to me.

I can't believe or say that my millions

words are just a dream. Feeling you

besides me, feeling your breath without

opening your lips. 

Go away dreams that I can't reach,

just because you are an impossible dream. 

Sunny children

What a subject to approch...

My blood fumes when children
suffer, I don't care if they are
poor, rich, white, black, different

backgrounds, different language,

different beliefs, spoiled, shy, if they
put a tantrum once in a while,

THEY ARE CHILDREN

They are respected as children

and don't subject them to hunger,

atrocities,mutilations, or even

premature death.

They are the blood of our blood,

the flesh of our flesh, our present

and future.

I can't say that I went through a rough

time growing up, a life like all normal

children of parents who broke their

back to give a better life and future

then theirs.

Bad times always existed like 

wars,flood,fires,earthquakes, but

also atrocious people who could

not stand other people especially

young children who had a real long

memory. So not to go through the

consequences would destroy these

poor angels WHO HAD NO FAULTS.

NB: this photo is an AI and not mine.

 

 

Poetry...

Poetry is an assembly of words
reflecting our world, hiding the
cries of the stars like long 
glistering strings sown to the 
clouds, and balancing from
the breath of new lovers who
are caught in their own 
poetry world. Why O why do

I feel the weight of the world

on my shoulders, that weight

I did not create it, rather it was

created for a reader to stop,

think and reflect.