15 february 2020
Water Was Transparent
A firefly in a jar
will not fly.
Presiding over the genocide
how can you count the dead
children of god, on the street,
by your forked tongue?
The roving eyes. Chameleons.
With folded hands, they
throw the snow on your
disheveled hair.
The morals are marketed
daily on the dais. I deny myself,
something which I can give
you. O hunger, don't go back.
23 february 2025
absynt
23 february 2025
wiesiek
23 february 2025
Eva T.
23 february 2025
ajw
23 february 2025
ajw
23 february 2025
Jaga
22 february 2025
Marek Gajowniczek
22 february 2025
Eva T.
22 february 2025
wiesiek
22 february 2025
absynt