18 lipca 2020
Existential Plight
Will not put any claim.
Neonate my poem
has gone gray.
Black days and white
nights.I will recall my
ghost and ask, O god-
do you exist anywhere?
A thread of pain, makes
a family of feet, climbing
in smoke.
Vulnerable to theft, my
thoughts divert me towards
cemetery, where I will
bury my sins.
You remained a question
for me on calender date.I
will hold on the time,
which has thrown me back.
6 lutego 2026
Misiek
6 lutego 2026
Jaga
6 lutego 2026
wiesiek
6 lutego 2026
violetta
6 lutego 2026
sam53
6 lutego 2026
sam53
5 lutego 2026
wiesiek
5 lutego 2026
ais
5 lutego 2026
Arsis
4 lutego 2026
violetta