something i wrote a few years ago

Had to lift my head and ask why they were pouring on me

I had never claimed love to the heavens,

never thought this notion could be

But I dreamt that one day sand will bare another tree which will bring for me benevolence

and he would claim love to me.



Once a dream now dying

So we bet upon dying;

My notion and me

I want to be

But if I find a path to my aim,

My dream will live to blame.



Then I saw an idea making so much noise

“She is going to die” whispered in mockery

“She will die! If she wants to live, love will be her poise.”

I will win without making love my poise,

Amused by this circus,

I laughed at the fact that in a voodoo doll I had left my ability to live.