Wednesday, 28 January 2009


I tremble - my life is a thread
I shiver - there's not much left but dread
I would like to talk to you
but you're just in another world
it doesn't matter what I do
what you perceive is just cold
'cause I can't tell you about
a story of screams and shouts,
a fight with no winners
a bid with no bidders.
I shall walk on streets
made of concrete and breeze
and feel free, even just once
when the sun is setting,
and everybody is in trance.

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