30 grudnia 2014
A VERY HURT POEM
Last night
moon was following me
discreetly,
skirting behind the trees.
A white splendor
drips,
like a dropped coin
on poor’s hand.
Did you see the blood
on roses?
The petals were wounded
in rain.
Casual violence
spreads in the streets.
I write a very hurt
poem.
11 marca 2025
Marek Gajowniczek
11 marca 2025
wiesiek
11 marca 2025
Marek Gajowniczek
11 marca 2025
AS
11 marca 2025
Marek Jastrząb
11 marca 2025
sam53
11 marca 2025
Marek Gajowniczek
11 marca 2025
absynt
11 marca 2025
Toya
11 marca 2025
ajw