Poetry

O wounded bird on an electricity wire pole
Hey boots polisher child !
If you have a white mustache you will be perfect adult mature
How much hopes shine in your eyes?
You lick your wound and sing
You looking for a homeless star in the sky
To hanged it to your soul
The Christmas swing is rounding and rounding
And you stun in the track
Santa Claus is in the other side of river
You pass the streets , the side walk shine your soil heart
Embroidered the face of the world
Your box carries the colors of life
The black tired you
Paste flower on the sun's hair
By your cold softy hands
You will fly , sure you will

Bursa-Turkey .12-2-2011