Friday, January 04, 2008

Wastes

How many words
Lost and spoiled
In the forgotten silence
Of an empty room
Lost,
Pour.

How many words
Buried under the common stone
Of a paper already hurt.

Once the farewell is gone
There’s just the silence froze:
No one cared
No one bled to death
The poet is not dead…

…he never was.

S. G.

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