13 stycznia 2015
DOWNPOUR
Your lips were me.
I wanted a kiss
which never came.
Insertion of a word, was committed
my wings took a flight
for anonymity.
To keep suffering alive
truth was accepting the hurts.
I was not speaking for myself.
Who was me to want a praise
for the custodian of morality?
Something for my name?
I must salute the fallen fingers,
who did not write death –
for my hugging blankness.
11 kwietnia 2026
wiesiek
11 kwietnia 2026
dobrosław77
11 kwietnia 2026
Weronika
11 kwietnia 2026
Anthony DiMichele
11 kwietnia 2026
Anthony DiMichele
11 kwietnia 2026
Anthony DiMichele
11 kwietnia 2026
Anthony DiMichele
10 kwietnia 2026
sam53
10 kwietnia 2026
violetta
10 kwietnia 2026
wiesiek